Generations Redefined
by CrysWimmer
Summary: Complete! Not what was originally intended... a roundabout story where rumors aren't what they seem and reality is adjusted by circumstances. Lee-Kara; William-Original
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Of all the places on the Galactica, the one room that William Adama felt the least accepted in was the mess hall.  It was his ship – his crew – his life.  But there was something about standing at the end of the serving line, holding a tray, and not having a single person that he felt comfortable sitting with that was damned depressing.

It wasn't that he was unwelcome.  Probably there were a number of people who wouldn't mind his company.  The part that bothered him was that if they did mind, they still wouldn't tell him.  Honesty was the first casualty of trying to mingle with his troops; he didn't feel like bothering with the lies.  Also, he didn't want to impose the presence of a commander on any of his troops, and as everyone in the room was beneath him in the chain of command at one level or another, that pretty much left him standing there alone.  Most meals he ate in his office just to eliminate the difficulties associated with making this choice.  He didn't know what he'd been thinking when he'd grabbed a tray instead of requesting a box to go.

Except that he did.  He was sick and tired of eating alone.  His office was too damned quiet, and there was nothing there for him except work that needed to be done.  Like every other man and woman in this room, he needed a break and he wasn't likely to get it if he went back to his office.  He would take a bite and do a report, sip his coffee and check the rosters.  He wouldn't rest, and he wouldn't relax, and even he knew that if he didn't start separating his work from his life he was going to lose the line.  It was already so damned blurred that he could barely see it.

So there he stood, holding a tray of cooling food and looking over a half-full room in hopes that he would find an empty area of table so that he wouldn't have to be a burden to anyone.  Lords, he was pitiful.

The elbow that jolted him was a total surprise.  He jumped, turning quickly to see who had rammed into him, and found Kara Thrace standing there with a sheepish smile.  "Sorry about that," she said quickly.  "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"And I was standing in the way," he admitted.  "Go ahead."

Her head cocked sideways as she looked at him.  "You don't usually come down here," she commented.  "Finally get tired of working dinners?"

The question was so close to his earlier thoughts that his jaw fell open.  She grinned at that, and looked around the room with a cursory glance.  "Cool, Evans is on his way out.  Do you have someplace you need to be, or can I keep you company?"

The woman was a mind reader.  "I was just looking for a table," he admitted.

"Follow me," she ordered, and he had to smile.  She was probably the only person on the ship who didn't mind ordering the Commander around.  It wasn't a lack of respect – far from it in fact – but rather a simple matter of unconventionality that was unique to Kara.  She didn't give a flying frak who ranked where; people were people, and that was that.  It was one of the reasons he admired her so much.  She was just as likely to sit with the mechanics as the pilots during a briefing.  Rank didn't even seem to register on her radar.

So he followed the briskly walking woman towards a back table.  The mess hall was basically a huge bay with long tables situated in rows.  It was similar to most cafeterias, if a little more tightly arranged to preserve space.  Kara was headed for the back, towards the end of a table against the far wall of the hall.  It was a spot that looked quiet, and again he wondered that she was reading his mind.

By the time they were seated, his meal was frankly cold.  It wasn't unusual; he rarely got around to his food while it was warm.  It was a hazard of command.  There was always something more important to do than to eat.  He took a seat across from her at the very end of the table, looking at her oddly as he did so.  Kara was a very social person, seeming to know everyone.  Why was she hiding down here with him?

He was about to ask when he saw her eyes close and her head drop.  Her lips moved in a silent prayer that was quickly over.  He was abashed as she looked up, her cheeks turning slightly pink.  How long had it been since he had seen someone give thanks for their meal?

"It's not much, but it's better than the processed crap we started with," she said with a shrug, and  - yes, he was certain now – a blush.  "Weird the stuff you feel grateful for."

"Being alive is something to be grateful for," he said quietly.  "I don't often remember to be thankful though."

She gave another embarrassed shrug.  "It's drilled into me," she admitted.  "Betty was big on going to church and saying prayers.  I guess some of it took after all.  She'd be thrilled."

"Betty?"

Kara gave another careless shrug as she took a bite of whatever was passing for meat this week.  "Foster parents," she said once she'd stopped chewing and had swallowed.  "My mom died when I was born, and my dad really never forgave me for that."  She gave a smile that he didn't think was nearly as careless as she'd made it appear.  "He was a mean drunk.  I don't remember a lot about him, but I do remember waking up in a hospital on Picon with a busted arm and he was gone.  Betty was one of the nurses, and was getting ready to retire.  She took me home and kept me.  She and Kyle – that was her husband – pretty much raised me.  I guess I was around… five or six.  Not sure, really.  They picked the day they brought me home and called it my fifth birthday, and we went from there."

He shook his head in wonder.  "I had no idea," he said softly.  "I've known you… how many years?"

She smiled up at him.  "Almost five, I guess.  Zak and I dated about two years before…"

He nodded, not making her finish.  Before his son had died.  "It sounds like they were good people," he said as he sampled the vegetables.  They were decent; not good, but decent.  

"They were," she said with a wistful smile.  "I was with them until I was fourteen.  Kyle died when I was twelve – cancer – and I was mad at the world.  I really put Betty through hell before I started to grow up.  She only made it a couple of years, but that wasn't all me.  She and Kyle were… I don't know, almost like they shared a heart.  When he died, there wasn't much left for her.  She held on mostly for me, I guess."

"Fourteen?"

She answered his implied question.  "I didn't go back into the system," she admitted.  "I told you I was mad at the world.  I screwed around until the juvenile department gave me an ultimatum – join the Service or go to jail.  So, I joined.  It wasn't so bad, and they offered me some college classes.  I was pretty good at that, kept at it, and when I got my degree I applied for a commission.  It was iffy for a bit, and then they stuck me in a plane."  She grinned genuinely at that.  "I did okay."

"I can imagine," he said wryly.

"It kept me out of trouble," she admitted, and then winked.  "Most of the time."

"I've had some experience with 'most of the time', although you've done better lately."

"Lee threatened my flight status," she admitted.  "I'm on my best behavior."

"As I remember," he said thoughtfully, "Spencer did that more than once.  It didn't help."

She laughed, and for just a moment he realized exactly how young she was; for a moment he'd forgotten.  She had a way of sounding older, perhaps born of such an uncertain beginning in her life, or maybe the older people who had raised her.  "Ripper threatened," she said with a wide smile.  "Lee means it.  He doesn't take much of my shit."  She shrugged and then looked him in the eye.  "Like father like son, I guess."

William shook his head and had to laugh.  "You get away with more than you think," he told her.  "It's those damned dimples."

She blushed again, and it occurred to him how the remark might be interpreted.  Unfortunately, he didn't have a clue what to say to make it more appropriate.  Hell, he didn't have a clue why he'd said it in the first place.  He chalked it up to being able to talk to someone for a change that didn't cringe every time he looked up at them, and didn't cower from his approach.  Kara was just… Kara.  She was tough enough to hold her own, and comfortable enough with herself that she didn't really care what others thought.  Or did she?

"So you learned to say your prayers and fly a plane.  What else have you been hiding, or should I even ask?"

She shook her head, shoving her now empty plate away.  "Not a lot," she admitted.  "I'm pretty much an open book.  Well, tonight at least.  Normally I don't ramble quite so much.  Sorry."

"Don't be," he told her honestly.  "I've enjoyed having someone to eat with, and to talk to.  I get sick of eating in my office, but I'm always afraid that if I come in here I'll disrupt everyone's digestion."

She laughed again.  "They'll get over it.  Think about yourself once in a while."  Her expression became more serious as she continued.  "You do a lot for everyone else.  You keep us motivated, and monitor absolutely everything.  Hell, you even keep Roslin in line, although how you put up with the bureaucracy I have no clue.  You deserve to think of yourself once in a while.  I know Lee worries about you; he thinks you work too much.  So you shouldn't feel guilty about taking time out to eat a meal."

"I don't," he told her.  "I feel guilty making everyone else uneasy."

She glanced around the room, as though just now noticing that they were in a public place, among dozens of their colleagues.  "Why would you make anyone uneasy?" she asked in genuine confusion.

He had to shake his head.  "No reason," he told her, not wanting to get into it.  It all sounded entirely too self-absorbed when he tried to put it into words.  It was easier to just let it be.  "So, how are things on the line?"

She leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table.  "Slow.  And that's a good thing, because I'm not interested in any more life-or-death battles.  But it's a little dull, and very routine.  Lee's going stir-crazy, but that's mostly because he's doing more paperwork than flying.  There aren't a lot of patrols to fly, and he's pretty good about giving them to those of us who will go insane if we don't get an occasional flight."  She gave him a sheepish grin.  "Which mostly means me.  He says he can't stand me if I'm not in the air at least twice a week.  He probably has a point."

"He cares about you," he said with a wink.

She shrugged.  "It's mutual.  He's probably my best friend, even after all the crap we've had to sort out.  Lords, I don't know how he puts up with me.  A couple of weeks ago I lost a gimbal and bounced a landing.  When I came out of the cockpit I was ready to kill a crewman, or at least try, but he just stayed on the ladder when I tried to get out of the Viper and wouldn't let me down until I'd calmed down.  He probably saved a life that day, and he sure as hell kept me out of hack."

"He's a good CAG," William said, and he knew that the pride in his voice was slipping through.  He couldn't find it in him to care.  His son was a damned fine pilot, but he was also turning into an amazing leader.

"He is," Kara said.  "And you know, Commander, I wouldn't have been.  Too selfish; I'd rather fly than schedule."

William paused a moment.  "I'm not sure how… appropriate this is, but can I ask a favor?"

He realized that his wording was awkward when he saw the expression on her face.  "I guess.  You're the Commander," she added with a wink.

"That's just it," he said with a sigh.  "Always the Commander.  Do you mind, off duty, if we could just forget that for a few minutes.  I get sick of everyone treating me like a holy lord.  Out of uniform, and off duty, can you please call me Bill?  Hell, I'd even settle for Husker," he said dryly.

She gave him a soft smile that held clear understanding.  "I can probably handle that," she said.  "After all, you never have called me by rank."

"Maybe because you've never acted like a Lieutenant," he muttered, and then they both laughed.  "Seriously, though… sometimes I just want to be a person.  Saul is on duty; let him command.  I just want to eat dinner."

"So eat," she said with a smile.  "You're picking."

He looked down and saw that she was right.  While she had finished her meal, he had more or less pushed his around the plate until it looked even worse than it had when he'd originally received it, if it were possible.  "It's not fine cuisine," he admitted.

"Never has been," she said.  "But it's better than starving to death."

He poked at the mess he'd made of his dinner.  "You know… given the right utensil, I bet I could make this fly what… twenty feet?  Is that Lieutenant Evans over there?"

Kara looked over her shoulder, then back at him with a wicked grin.  "I dare you," she said, her smile widening.  "He's been on my nerves for a week."

"I wish," he told her softly.  "There was a time I would have done it, though.  Lords, Saul and I got into so much trouble when we were at the Academy.  Food fights, women in the dorms, and once…"

"What?" she asked eagerly, leaning forward with a glint in her eyes.  How in hell had he gotten himself into this conversation?

"I can't tell Saul's stories," he hedged, trying to get himself out of the hole he'd dug.  "It's not my place.  Besides, I happen to know you'd use it against him.  Let's just say… we got one another out of more scrapes than I care to remember.  It's a wonder either one of us made it past the first year there.  I spent as much time in the brig as I did in classes."

"And here I thought my academy time set records," she told him with a smirk.  "What was it they said… I racked up more hours in hack then in class?"

"How exaggerated is that?" he asked her gently, honestly wanting to know.  She wasn't a bad officer, but she did have a temper.  Tempers tended to make for bad reputations.

"You haven't read the records?" she asked with her eyebrows raised.

He shook his head.  "I glanced over a few reports when Zak announced that he wanted to marry you," William admitted.  When Kara blushed, he let her off the hook.  "I didn't see any court-martials, so I decided to quit reading while I was ahead.  How much did I miss?"

She shook her head.  "Enough," she admitted.  "I didn't hurt anyone though – nothing bad enough to get me on formal charges.  I just didn't take any shit from anyone.  I still don't, if it comes to that."

"I suppose that's what's important," he admitted in a mock-solemn voice.  "Not everyone can be as upstanding as Lee."

Kara laughed at that.  "Upstanding?  More like uptight!  I swear, he's never met a rule he didn't love.  He could have at least loosened up around Zak, but he was worse if anything."

"He wanted to be a good example," William said, and he almost managed a straight face as he did it.  Almost.

Kara giggled.  "Lords, he and Zak used to make one another crazy.  I think Lee was actually glad when Zak asked him to move out so I could move in; got them out of one another's space.  I've never known two brothers to be so different."

"They were that.  But they… suited one another.  Zak had the humor and Lee had the logic.  Put them together, and it's a wonder Iilya and I survived it.  Zak would get them into trouble, and invariably Lee had to get them out.  It was that way right up until…"  He broke off, suddenly remembering just who he was talking to.  "I'm sorry," he said quickly.

She shook her head.   "Don't be.  I miss him – I'll always miss him – but I think I'd feel worse if he was forgotten.  He was a good man.  Lee and I talk about him sometimes.  It's gotten easier, at least.  But remembering him is really all we have left of him.  We had a lot of good times, and that's something that I can't get back.  It's the least I can do to remember – keep a part of him alive that way."

"It's difficult," he said softly.

"If it bothers you…" she began.

William shook his head.  "No," he said quickly.  "It's just that there are so few people who remember him.  Lee and I still don't really talk about him; there's too much pain there, and I know he has so much regret.  And Saul didn't know him that well.  Some days, it's as though I never had two sons, and that just feels so… wrong."

"Well, if you ever want to talk, I'm here," she said with a soft smile.

"Thanks," he said, and he genuinely meant it.

"It beats eating alone," she told him.  "Lee's got a date tonight, and I just didn't want to deal with the guys.  I swear if one more man makes a pass at me I'm gonna be in the brig again."

"Lee's dating?" he asked.  That was new.

She gave a shrug and a grin.  "Lieutenant Cummings," she said.  "From Life Station.  I've been teasing him for a week about going out with a nurse."

William grinned.  "You're okay with that?" he asked.  Rumors had flown on occasion that Kara and Lee were occasionally a couple.  While William hadn't seen any evidence of it, neither had he bothered to ask either one of them if there was any truth to the rumors.

She shook her head.  "If Cummings can put up with him, then more power to her," she said.  "Don't get me wrong, I love Lee.  I always will.  He's my best friend, and I'd do anything for him, but there are days I can't stand him.  By the book is one thing, but he's given new meaning to the term 'anal'.  It's his way or no way, and that makes us all nuts.  He'll probably give her a checklist if they ever have sex," she muttered, but she seemed genuinely amused by the thought.  "On the other hand, maybe if he got some he'd be easier to tolerate."

William watched her as she realized just what she had said, and to whom she had said it.  Both hands flew to her mouth, and he had the rare pleasure of watching her blush bright red.  "How do you really feel?" he asked her with a totally straight face.

"Lords," she muttered, her face brightening if anything.  "Tell me I didn't just say that to his father."

"Not a chance," he told her with a grin.  "This is blackmail material for years to come."

She shook her head, but finally a giggle broke free.  It made her sound about twelve years old, and made him feel interminably old.  But the humor was contagious, and he had to join her.  He didn't know how long they laughed, but every time one stopped, the other started up again, until they were getting more than a few odd looks from the other diners.  William tried to control himself, and found that he only laughed that much harder.  Lords, how long had it been since he'd laughed?  Really laughed?

He didn't know how much time had passed before she finally calmed down, took a sip of what passed for coffee, and smiled up at him.  "I need to go," she said, and he could have sworn there was reluctance in her voice.  "I'm on shift in another hour, and I still have some things to check over.  I refuse to go up without a pre-flight.  I trust Tyrol, but I just can't bring myself to go up in a bird that someone else has cleared."

"Understood.  I was the same way."

She stood up, picking up her plate as she did so.  He stood as well – a combination of ingrained manners and common courtesy.  "Do you miss it?" she asked.

"It?"  He wondered where he'd lost the thread of their conversation.

"Flying," she said.  "I can't imagine…"

He smiled sadly, reaching up to touch his glasses.  "Yes, I do," he admitted.  "Every day.  I love the Galactica, but there's nothing like flying your own plane.  Enjoy it.  You'll never feel anything like it."

She smiled.  "Don't have to tell me that," she told him.  

His smile became more genuine as he watched her for a moment, and he found that he couldn't let the moment pass unrecognized.  "Can we… do this again sometime?" he asked.  "It's nice to be able to talk to somebody who doesn't salute me three or four times before I pick up my fork."

Her smile softened somewhat.  "Please," she said, and the honesty in her voice took away any discomfort he had felt in asking.  "It's nice to be able to talk to somebody who doesn't want to hit me by the end of the conversation."

He laughed at that.  "Have a good flight."

"I will," she told him.  "And thank you.  For the company, and just… thanks."

"My pleasure," he admitted.

Once she had left, William found himself sitting back down, but he didn't bother to eat.  His mind was running in overdrive, and he couldn't slow it down.  There was something shifting in his mind – something out of place – but he couldn't tell what it was.  He wished that he knew.

He had felt comfortable with Kara there, but with her gone he found that he had no interest in staying in the mess hall.  He turned in his plate, which was still full, and then walked back to his room.  He saluted absently in the corridors, his mind not on where he was, but rather where he had been, and whom he had been with.

Kara Thrace was a good person; that was just a fact.  He hadn't been thrilled when his son had announced an engagement to one of the biggest troublemakers that the academy had seen since… well, since William and Saul had been there in any case.  But the moment he'd met her – had seen her with his son – he had known that there was something special about her.  She wasn't just a woman, or just a pilot.  She had a strength and personality that amazed him.  He had no clue why some man hadn't snagged her years before… but he did.  Kara was as true and loyal as they came, and she had belonged to Zak, heart and soul.  They'd had a love that he could almost touch, and could certainly see.  Had Zak lived, they would no doubt have children by now.

Our would they?  Kara loved to fly; would she have given that up?  Would Zak have asked it of her?  The chances of either of them being alive today would have been infinitesimal.  They never would have been assigned to the Galactica if they'd been married; as his son, it would have been impossible for Zak to work beneath him and logically they would have applied for a joint station.

It was all more than he could manage to process – the ifs and maybes and fears, and mostly the relief that he still had some of his family around him.  Saul was family – a brother by choice if not by blood.  Lee was his son.  Kara was… hell if he knew.  If he had to define it, he supposed daughter was close, but it wasn't right.  She wasn't his daughter.  

But what in the Lords names was she?  A friend?  He wasn't sure he could fit her into existing slot of classification that he currently had for the people in his life.  She was a co-worker of sorts, but he didn't really work with her directly; he left that to his son.  She wasn't exactly a friend though, either.  Certainly she was someone who he felt comfortable with, although he really had no clue why.  

She had been around him very little actually since the war had begun.  He had spoken to her in some briefings, and even a few meetings with pilots over the last year, but beyond that they'd had no real contact beyond the occasional morning greeting or passing one another in the course of duty.  Even before the war, the only time they'd really spent together had been the couple of weeks following Zak's funeral.  Lee had been beyond furious, and Kara had been distraught.  It had been after the tirade that Lee had made at the family house immediately following the funeral that she had called him aside to tell him that it had all been her fault.  

She had explained then how she had passed Zak though the class on basic flight in order to keep him in the training program until she could work with him and get his skills refined.  Her commanding officer had been out of town, and she had covered the evaluations.  How no one had realized that she was rating her own fiancé William had no clue.  He had never asked.  At first, because she had been hurting so much and he had been afraid that any questions would have brought on an investigation that would have destroyed her.  And later, he hadn't bothered because it hadn't mattered.  Destroying a career at that point couldn't bring his son back from the dead.  It hurt less to let it go than to hold on to the pain by dragging it all out.

But the fact that he knew, and that Kara was aware that he understood – or at the very least accepted – her part in Zak's death had given them a common ground.  Kara had stayed in touch with Lee, providing a link to his son that even Iilya couldn't manage, and she had stayed in touch with him.  

He and his wife had already been on shaky ground with the military as a barrier between them before Zak's accident.  William had been past the point in his career when retirement had become an option, and yet he didn't feel that he could leave the job.  Iilya had been furious, saying that she had served her time alone and was finished with it.  She had given him an ultimatum – leave the service or leave her – and he had made his choice by not making one at all.  She had made the choice for them.  Losing her baby to same organization which had kept her husband from her had been more than she could stand.  She hadn't even spoken to William at the funeral, and Lee's only words had been screamed from half-way across the room.  Only Kara had stayed close, and he'd realized then that she was a fairly special lady.  It had been no small wonder that Zak had fallen in love with her.

Granted, Kara wasn't the typical idea of a beauty queen, but she was certainly beautiful in her own way.  She had an athletic build that he found considerably more attractive than the willowy figures that were so much in style.  She had stamina as well, as she had proven on more than one occasion, working marathon sessions on the deck to get planes in the air or ship repairs done.  She was independent and had a strength that he frankly admired, and yet he had seen in those days following the loss of Zak that she had a heart as soft as anyone.  But she hadn't broken when she'd lost Zak, even under the guilt that had swamped her pain.  She had simply put herself to work and stayed busy until the initial grief had eased.  She had kept in touch with him and she had also stayed close to Lee, which at the time William had thought was more of a penance than a friendship.  He knew now that he had been wrong.

Kara and Lee were polar opposites, just as Lee and Zak had been.  But they complimented one another.  Kara provided the fun in their relationship, and Lee the control and rationality.  It was a pleasure to watch them work together.  In the early months after losing Zak, William had actually hoped that something romantic might develop between the two of them, but the friendship was just that, and no more.  They didn't mind being physical with one another – a hug here or there, and perhaps sitting closer than one might expect – but it was a comfort born of friendship rather than of sexual interest.  William had seen it first hand when the war had begun.  They were there for one another, but the friendship had a camaraderie that was completely platonic.  Lee was no more physical with her than he had been with Zak, and frankly William was convinced that this was the role that Kara filled for Lee.  She had replaced the brother whom he had lost, both in personality and proximity.

William had asked his son about it once, wondering if he would ever consider settling down with anyone and immediately assuming Kara would be the woman he would want.  Lee had almost laughed at him, which might have offended William under different circumstances.  But the sheer surprise on his son's face had told him all he needed to know about their friendship.  They were close, yes, but not romantically.  It was a rather constant source of disappointment for William.  

He liked Kara, and he could see that she was lonely.  She didn't hang with the women because she didn't seem to fit in, and even the men in her squadron excluded her from a lot of activities.  If she spent time with anyone, it was usually the deck crews, either men or women or a mix.  Lee included her of course, and as CAG he carried some weight in 'suggesting' that the other men do the same, but a female Viper pilot was still just a little bit of an anomaly.  Women were common in the service, and common as pilots, but Vipers required a strength and stamina that most women just didn't have.  Kara did.  In fact, she was more than adequate in the position; she was easily the best pilot he'd ever seen.  She had an instinct for flight that he envied, and a love for the planes that was obvious.  Hell, maybe that was why he found her so damned attractive; they were both pilots to the marrow of their bones.

William's thoughts ground to a halt.  Attractive?  Where had that come from?  Certainly he was fond of her, but attracted?  Good Lords, she was at least thirty years younger than he was, and certainly more a match for his son than for him.  He only wished his son could see what an amazing woman she was.

William leaned back against the chair where he had seated himself when he'd returned to his office.  He'd been so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even remember the walk, much less settling himself in to work.  He hadn't really accomplished anything… he had daydreamed about a beautiful pilot with wide green eyes and a sparkle to her personality that made him wish he were a hell of a lot younger than he was.  And he knew he must be tired to let his mind wander down the track it had begun.  Tired, lonely, and absolutely pitiful.

Dirty old man.  She'd be appalled if she'd known that he had even… but it was only thoughts, and respectful ones at that.  And he was old, not dead.  The day he was too old to recognize a lovely woman, he was going to hang up his glasses, crawl into bed, and stay there until he died.  The world they had left lacked many things, but the recognition of honest beauty shouldn't be one of them.  Kara was charming, inside and out.  Even an old man like he was could appreciate that.

But it still made him feel very old to do so.  Lords, Kara had a whole life ahead of her and he was approaching the age of mandatory retirement.  He wasn't there just yet – and he was sure that under the circumstances the clause in regulations would be overlooked – but his age was a fact just the same.  He wasn't a young man, he couldn't run ten miles anymore, and the last time he'd made love to a woman had been…

It had been too long ago to bother with remembering.  He and Iilya had been on fragile terms for years before Zak's death.  Granted, it had been the final nail in the coffin of their marriage, but their relationship had faded long before then.  The two of them hadn't done more than sleep in a bed together for more than a year before she requested the divorce.  And they hadn't done very much of that.  He'd been home only a handful of days, and she had made it clear that she wasn't going to be a second choice.  The couple of times he had brought up the subject, she had made it clear that he could just go be with his mistress – the Galactica – because she surely had more than Iilya could ever provide him.  At the time it had made him furious; now it just made him very sad.  He should have let her go long before she had demanded it.  It had only been his selfishness that had prolonged their marriage.  One more regret, he thought, among many.

Giving up on the thought of getting any work done, William stood and began to undress.  He tugged off the day shirt which he used in place of a uniform top when off duty – not that he was any less recognizable, but it was the best he could do - and uniform pants which he folded carefully and laid over the back of his chair so that they would remain crisp for tomorrow's shift.  Then he tugged back the covers to his neatly made bed – a habit which had remained with him since he'd joined the military – and slipped beneath the cold sheets wearing only his undershirts and skivvies.  He turned on one side, shivered slightly, and waited for the cocoon of covers to get warm.  

William was too tired to work, but sleep was still a long time in coming.  His mind rambled of its own accord, never really focusing anywhere for any length of time.  He did his best not to feel responsible for where his tired mind decided to go.  His last thoughts before finally drifting off were of a lively blond woman with wide green eyes and a smile that could light up a room.  If he had been alert enough to realize who he had been thinking of, he probably would have felt guilty.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

This was a surprise, Lee Adama thought.  And a treat as well.  He leaned back against the side of the lockers, keeping out of view of his pilots.  He hadn't meant to wind up spying on the men, but now that he was hidden in a corner of the ready room, it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up.  There were things which could only be learned through covert operations, and finding out just what was going on in his squadron was unfortunately one of them.  Even after a year of fairly adequate leadership, he was not well liked in the squadron.  He'd come in from the outside, was related to the commander, and he was not above quoting the manuals when a situation demanded it.  None of these three qualities had endeared him to anyone, least of all his pilots.

"Damned schedule is frakking stupid," muttered Adam Hennings – Rocker – from his location at his locker.  Lee didn't have to be watching to know that the man must be flipping long, blond, well outside regulation hair back behind one shoulder.  The playboy seemed to think he was the Lords' gift to women, although from what Lee had heard the ladies weren't buying it.  Still, a pilot was a pilot, and Lee had limited resources to work with, even after they had pooled all the under-aged, retired, and civilian pilots.  Sure, he could make an issue of the hair, but so far it had seemed to be the least of his problems.  Well, there was that and that he had been hoping that the Lieutenant would grow up a bit and deal with it on his own.  Lee had always been responsible; he didn't understand when others weren't.

"Tell me about it."  Lee didn't recognize that voice right off, but it was likely another of his pilots as they were about the only ones to use the ready room on a regular basis. 

Lee heard bumps and thuds that told him gear was being stowed and doors slammed before the next voice was heard, although the words were soft and not clear enough to make out.  This was another of his pilots – Lieutenant Kevin Jacks, more commonly known as Popcorn – and while his words were mumbled, he didn't sound any happier about Lee's scheduling than Rocker had.  Lee really didn't care about their opinions on his schedules – he had his reasons for everything he did - but it was interesting to find out their perspectives just the same.  If any one of them had come to him with a legitimate concern, he would have managed it quickly and efficiently.  The fact that they preferred to grumble behind his back only served to prove that there was nothing solid in their complaints.

"Thrace gets all the decent patrols," Rocker rumbled, his deep voice at odds with his childish whining.

"That may change," the unknown voice said hopefully.  "From what I saw the other day, she and the CAG may not be quite so tight."

"Hmm?"  Rocker again.

"She's hanging with the big dogs," the unknown voice announced.  "Saw her the other day in the mess hall all snuggled up to the Commander.  Guess frakking the CAG isn't high enough up on her ladder."

Lee's breath came in suddenly, albeit quietly.  What the hell…?

"You're kidding me!" Popcorn announced.  "The Commander?"

"Guess one Adama is as good as another," chuckled Rocker.  "She was frakking the youngest when she was at the academy."

"You're all insane," Lieutenant Evans argued.  Great, Lee thought.  Just what he needed.  At the moment, he really wished that he could see around the lockers to find out who all was in there.  The room had been empty when he'd walked past the lockers to the head, but apparently it was brimming with people now.  And of all the people Lee didn't really want to deal with, Charles Evans was easily at the top of the list.

Evans was probably the one person on board the Galactica who Kara simply couldn't stand, although she'd never told Lee why.  He was objective enough to realize that her opinions had clouded his, but Lee still found little redeeming about the cocky and rude fighter jock.  The feeling was mutual if it came to that; Evans was the first to give Lee a hard time, whether it was disagreeing about the Viper he was assigned, grumbling about the length of patrols, or having a fit about taking a shift that wasn't preferred.  While Evans was now arguing with his friends' claims, Lee couldn't imagine it was to defend Kara's honor. 

"She ain't frakking anyone, at least not an Adama.  Well, not unless they got a little sister we don't know about." 

Evans' voice was low, threatening, and it was all that Lee could manage to not step out and put a fist through the egotistical pilot's face.  Lords, Lee thought, he'd been spending too much time around Kara when his first thought was to hit the man, however appealing the idea now appeared.  Diplomacy, Lee reminded himself.  The heart of command was diplomacy.

"What?" Rocker asked.

Evans' laugh sent a chill up Lee's spine.  He knew instinctively that he wasn't going to like what came next, regardless of how little he thought of the idiotic pilot's opinion.  Lee was used to being insulted – it came with the position of authority – so he wasn't taking it personally.  And he could imagine that the man had little liking for Kara, who could out fly, out fight, and even out cuss him.  Evans didn't like being shown up, and Kara had done it more than any other three pilots on the squad.  Privately, Lee loved that she kept him in his place; professionally, he wished she'd stop pouring tylium on an already volatile situation.

"She wouldn't frak a man unless it was on a bet," Evans finally said with a false authority that rankled Lee's nerves.  "Think about it.  Aside from the CAG who writes her evals, have you ever even seen her even look at a guy?"  He pause for what he no doubt believed to be dramatic effect.  "On the other had, we have Valerii, who also won't give any of us the time of day.  Those two are like a set when they're off duty.  I'm thinking that Starbuck and Boomer have something going on the side."

"No way," Rocker said with a laugh.  "Wasn't she engaged to a guy?"

"A Commander's son," Evans corrected.  "Probably trying to get some rank out of the bargain.  You'll notice she didn't marry anyone."

"I still think she's got it for the Commander," the unknown voice argued.  Lee really wished he could place it.  "You should have seen them in there, sitting in the back of the hall and laughing like kids.  It was pathetic.  They must have been there for like an hour; it was disgusting.  I mean, he's ancient."

Lee rolled his eyes at the childish phrasing.  He'd known that he had a crew of mostly rooks, but he hadn't realized that some of them should still be in diapers.  Lee'd had just about had enough.  Unfortunately, he knew that when he stepped out and made himself visible he would be giving away one of his favorite hiding spots.  No, he didn't spy on them often, but it could be handy to be able to find out what they said behind his back.  Still, while he didn't mind finding out that they thought he was a pampered asshole – that they thought he was in his position just because of his father – he took exception to their insulting his best friend, and two of his finest pilots.  Hell, it wasn't a logical realization and he didn't try to make it that way; friendship rarely was.

Stepping out from behind the lockers, he still didn't gain their immediate attention.  He was able to recognize the previously unknown voice as belonging to Lieutenant Simmons, who was beginning to speak again.

"Maybe she likes it both ways," he was saying with a shrug. 

"But it still ain't fair that she gets more time in the cockpit than we do, hot piece of ass or not," Rocker argued.  "Shit, I can't even remember the last time I had a patrol that was more than two hours long."

"That would be because your flying deteriorates the longer you're out there," Lee said simply, and had the intense pleasure of watching four men snap to attention with hysterical speed.  If they thought he was an asshole, he could act the part.  "You have no stamina.  If I give you a patrol more than two hours long, I have no guarantee that you'll be able to land and I can't afford to lose a Viper," he continued.  "And as for you Evans, I think you spend too much time in the gym to be bothered with flight.  Not enough, though.  How close are you now to the weight max?"

Lee watched as Evans blushed a bright red.  Okay, maybe Lee was being an asshole – confirming their opinions of him – but he was having a good time with it.  "I'm within regs," Evans muttered.

"Not my problem," Lee said with a shrug.  "For the next thirty days it won't matter if you can fit into a Viper or not.  Consider your flight status revoked pending a physical to ensure that you're flight ready.  Too bad Salik doesn't have any openings until next month.  You can work with the maintenance crews until then; that'll take off any weight you need to lose."

"Sir?" Evans squeaked.

Lee just smiled.  "Hey Simmons," he said as he turned his attention to the shorter man.  "How are the repairs going on your Viper?  Got those landing struts straightened out yet?"

The pilot blushed as brightly as Evans had.  "Mostly repaired," he admitted.  "There's still some trouble with the hydraulics."

"Well, maybe you can help the mechanics get it straightened out," Lee said generously.  "In fact, I'll go ahead and assign you to Tyrol's team for a couple of weeks.  You don't have a problem with that, do you?"

"No, Sir," Simmons mumbled.  Lee was enjoying this far too much, and he shouldn't be.  He was a professional, and in command of a squadron.  He couldn't allow personal feelings to rule his discipline.  Yet he felt he needed to put a stop to this now, otherwise there would be no common military courtesy extended to those in authority, at least not by these pilots. 

"So, what's this I hear about you spending an hour in the mess hall?  I was pretty sure that breaks were down to half that when you're on shift."  He wasn't letting the man off the hook; the pilot needed to know that his gossip would carry repercussions.

"I wasn't on shift," the young man defended.

"Oh, that's right.  You were complaining about not having enough shifts.  We can take care of that," Lee told him with a smile.  "I could use someone to pull some extra time for me.  This room is a disaster; how about cleaning it up for us.  When your shifts with Tyrol's gang are over on the deck, feel free to pull another couple of hours in here.  I want the head scrubbed, the lockers disinfected, and while you're at it you can mop some floors.  Specialist Cally can show you where the buckets are kept."

Simmons didn't even argue, but rather lowered his eyes.  The man had some sense after all.

Lee took a deep breath before continuing.  "You guys are luckier than you think," he mumbled.  "It happened to be me coming out of the head.  If it had been Starbuck, I'd probably be calling the Life Station to have what was left of you shipped up there for bone fusion.  As it is, I could bring each and every one of you up on conduct unbecoming.  Do you really want to go there?"

A chorus of "no, Sir" was heard in the room before Lee continued.

"I really don't give a flying frak what you think of me," he added on a sigh, just so they would have no illusions about his motivations.  "I'm sorry that my family is such an affront to your fine, masculine standards, but the bottom line is that I outrank you, Thrace outranks you, and the Commander sure as hell outranks you.  I'll assign rosters as I see fit, and as long as they clear the Commander you'll just have to live with it.  For the record, I assign both shifts and patrols based on skill and reliability, and none of you have proven a sufficient amount of either to warrant more than you've been allotted.  If you have a problem with the rosters, you come to me and we'll talk.  Sniping in the locker room won't accomplish anything except getting you into trouble.

"You see, I don't have to tolerate insubordination from pilots who have nothing better to do than gossip about their superiors.  It's unprofessional and irritating, as well as being inaccurate as hell.  If you're smart, you'll make sure Thrace doesn't hear any of it; I know her pretty well, and she'd beat the living shit out of you.  Ironically she does have both skill and stamina in a Viper, and I can't afford to have my best pilot in the brig.  So I'll say this once more, rosters are determined by rank, by skill, and by my judgement.  If I can't trust you to be professional outside the cockpit, then don't expect me to put you in one.  Are we clear?"

Another round of "yes, Sir" circulated the room.

"If I remember my scheduling," Lee said carefully, "you're overdue for the flight line, aren't you Hennings?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then go.  Now.  Evans and Simmons, you're off duty so go get some sleep.  You're going to need your rest to keep up with the extra duties I'll be assigning.  You'll get a full schedule of my expectations first thing in the morning.  Clear?"

Another two mumbled agreements, and the two Lieutenants exited through the main doors from the ready room on the heels of Lieutenant Simmons. 

"Popcorn, isn't it?" Lee asked of the terrified looking Lieutenant who was left standing before him.  He had deliberately left his one out, partially because he'd been the least offensive of the group, but also because he wanted to try to make a dent in the group and this man was his most likely opportunity to do it.

"Yes, Sir."

"How in hell did you get that for a callsign?" Lee asked.  It was an old tactic, he knew… make it personal, and then once the man's defenses were lowered he'd be more likely to listen.

"It was… um… a joke," the young pilot stumbled.  "When I was at the academy, I filled the rear thrusters on a Raptor with popcorn kernels before a test fire.  When they ran the engine check, popcorn started flying everywhere.  It was pretty cool, really, like a mini-blizzard."

Lee nodded as he worked to suppress a smile.  It was creative; he'd give it that.  "Destruction of service property?" Lee asked.  "How long did you spend in the brig for that little stunt before they decided to label you with it for the rest of your career?"

"A week," the Lieutenant mumbled reluctantly.

Lee nodded his approval.  "Sounds like what I would have given you," he admitted.  Then Lee sighed and shook his head.  "Have a seat, Lieutenant."

"Sir?"

"I'm not going to kick you while you're off your feet," Lee muttered.  "You guys really must think I'm a shit."

Popcorn's eyes widened, but he did as he was told, taking a seat on the bench that ran the length of the flight lockers. 

Lee sighed.  "God, I hate this part of command," he said simply.  "I don't expect you guys to like me.  In fact, I really don't care if you do or not.  Whatever your opinion, I do my job damned well, and it will take more than your complaints to make me question my capabilities."  Lee didn't need to explain a damned thing to anyone, but he wanted to get something through to the group of pilots.  Talking to this kid one-on-one, the kid who had looked the most terrified when he'd first spoken, seemed his best bet.  "I've got a tough skin, so I can deal with it.  But not everyone does.  If you want the truth, what really pisses me off is that you guys have no respect for those who deserve it most.  Forty percent of our flyers are female, and many of them have had to really struggle to get where they are.  They aren't born with upper body strength, adequate stamina, or a military tradition to support them.  They work for their rank every damned step of the way, and somehow we have a few that are a hell of a lot better than anyone has a right to be."

"Yes, Sir," Jacks said softly.  Lee hoped he was really getting through.

"They have worked for their rank, and they deserve the respect they've earned.  I get sick of the chauvinistic attitudes that some of you have, but I let it pass because everyone has a right to his own opinion.  But when that opinion bleeds over into disrespect towards my pilots based on the decisions they make in their personal lives, I start getting pissed.  Refusing to date any one of you doesn't make a woman less of a pilot; it just shows that they have some level of judgement.  Dating the people you work with is never smart, and they know it.  Whoever any one of them dates, or doesn't date, is really no business of yours.  It's not appropriate for gossip, accusations, or even discussion.  Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," Jacks said again.

"Now, you can go back to your buddies and tell them what an asshole I am if you want; I'm sure they'd agree wholeheartedly.  But I'll tell you this up front.  The next time I hear anything even resembling an insult regarding one of our female pilots, I'm turning it in to the XO.  Not my father," Lee clarified.  "I'm afraid he'd be too lenient.  Colonel Tigh has no patience at all for insubordination, and he'll see to it that you lose your flight status if not your commission.  He takes the military rank structure very seriously, and military tradition as well.  You may not like those above you in the chain of command, and you don't necessarily have to respect us, but you had damned well better give us the military courtesy that we deserve, or you won't find yourself in the service much longer.  No one deserves to be spoken about the way your little group has managed, and quite frankly you should be ashamed of yourselves."  Lee looked up and met the abashed eyes of the young Lieutenant sitting before him.  "Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir," Jacks said softly, and Lee noted that there was a measure of remorse in his voice.  It was the most he had hoped for, and more than he had really expected.

"You're on duty in an hour," Lee said with a glance at his wrist.  "Go get something to eat, and then report back.  You'll have extra duties as well, so be sure you eat enough to carry you over.  You won't have time for dinner."

Jacks nodded at that.

"Dismissed," Lee said softly.

Lieutenant Jacks stood and walked to the door before turning and offering a crisp salute.  Lee stood to return it, more out of courtesy than actual regulation.  This hadn't been a formal meeting, so the salute wasn't necessary from either of them, but Lee appreciated the sign that his words had at least made a dent in the attitude of one man.  The rest of them were likely beyond redemption.

Sitting alone once the man had left, Lee took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hoping that he hadn't made matters worse by his intervention.  His actions had been driven as much by irritation as by his job description, and that bothered him.  Normally he wasn't one to allow his feelings to get in the way of doing his job.  Still, he was only human, and he had buttons that could be pushed just as easily as anyone else's.  Attacking his family was definitely pushing a button, whether they had intended for him to hear it or not.

Of course, the other concern he was facing was that most rumors had at least some basis in fact.  Rumors had begun regarding his and Kara's relationship shortly after the war began.  While the conclusion of the rumors was inaccurate – the two of them were not sleeping together – the basis had been that they spent a great deal of off-duty time together, were comfortable with one another, and tended to back one another when the need arose.  The rumor had been false, but the justification for speculation had been true enough. 

The same was true for their accusations questioning Kara's sexuality.  No, she didn't date.  No, she wasn't the most feminine of women.  And yes, she did spend a lot of time around Valerii, who was just as reticent about dating as Kara was.  Again, the basis was there, but the conclusion was off.  Valerii had a longstanding relationship with one of the deck crew that was not common knowledge.  They hadn't made it public because the views on fraternization were still varied, and Lee hadn't made an issue of it because it didn't affect their work.  He supposed it would seem odd that Sharon never dated if one didn't know that she was already romantically involved with someone.

Kara didn't date for a variety of reasons, but Lee thought that probably the most insistent was that she was still not ready.  The pilots had it right when they'd mentioned her engagement to his brother, but Zak's death and her involvement in it were privileged information.  With no more information than they had, any or all of the rumors could have seemed plausible.  And yet not a single damned one of them held a shred of truth.

Lee supposed that the same was likely true about his father and Kara.  They had probably eaten dinner together in the mess hall, and so the rumor mill had started.  It was damned depressing that a single isolated event could set off such a vicious rumor, but it wasn't uncommon.  The question Lee had was why neither his father nor Kara had mentioned the dinner to him.  And on a selfish note, why hadn't he been invited?

Yes, that was selfish.  The two of them were certainly allowed to spend time together without him, and they didn't need to ask his permission.  For a responsible adult, Lee often wondered why he sometimes felt a little jealous of how comfortable Kara was around his dad.  It wasn't that she was inappropriate – not at all – but Lee was still carrying the baggage from the way he'd treated the eldest Adama for more than two years. 

He had long been forgiven by his father, but it was very hard for him to forgive himself.  He had misjudged a situation, made the most difficult time in his parents' life even worse, and to top it off when he'd found out that someone else had done exactly what he'd accused his father of – then tried, convicted and sentenced him for – he had forgiven her without a second thought.  The double standard bothered him, and it was that guilt which tended to keep him just a little bit apart from his father. 

Kara had no such barrier, although in theory she shouldn't be any more comfortable with his dad than Lee was.  But his father had never placed blame, and Kara had punished herself far more than either of them ever could have.  Hell, just losing Zak had been the ultimate sentence.  So if Lee was jealous of the comfort that his dad had provided her in those weeks following the funeral, he had only himself to blame.  He had been the one to alienate his father.  He had been the one to accuse, and attack, and leave.  He had been the one who had put an end to their relationship as effectively as if he'd died himself.  So why in hell did he feel so bad when his father treated Kara like what she was – part of the family.

Childish, Lee thought.  Very childish.  For all he knew, he'd been on duty whenever the alleged dinner occurred.  And so what if he hadn't been?  They didn't need his permission to sit and talk… and laugh.  When was the last time Lee had heard his father laugh?  The thought was sobering.  Of all the petty accusations that he pilots had made, it had been this one which had hurt; the simple fact that life was going on around him, and he just couldn't get himself back into the flow.  He should have been the one looking out for his dad, and instead it was falling to Kara because Lee couldn't manage to get his head on straight.

But Lee's withdrawl from life in general wasn't for lack of effort.  He'd even gone on a date a few evenings before, although he'd figured out within about the first half-hour that it had been a mistake.  He hadn't been ready to deal with a woman.  Some days he wasn't ready to deal with himself.  The lovely medical technician had been sweet, attentive, and had hung on his every word.  It had bored the hell out of him.  She hadn't had a single differing opinion, which had made him question whether she was being honest with him.  She'd been just a little grabby as well, which hadn't done much for him.  Maybe it was the pilot in him, but he had always liked being in control when it came to the physical side of a relationship.  The evening had been a surprise in many ways; he had thought he was ready to get back into the dating game.  He had been wrong.  He was going to have to get a lot more comfortable with himself before he started trying to get close to someone else.

But that was all off the subject, which was the rumor mill being in full force about something that was clearly innocent.  While rumors between him and Kara seemed inevitable and ridiculous, he wasn't entirely sure that his father would feel the same way about Kara being slandered with his name.  After all, as the Commander he required the respect of his subordinates, and it was hard to respect someone who was fodder for gossip.  Lee had to wonder just exactly what had happened, what had been misinterpreted, and whether or not Kara and his dad were even aware that there was a potential problem brewing.

The easy solution was to ask his father, but given their differences in the past he was half-afraid that his father would consider it a personal attack rather than the legitimate concern which Lee felt it was.  They were finally on speaking terms, and that had been slow in coming.  Lee didn't want to mess it up by accusing the man of something illicit with one of his pilots.  The thought was ludicrous, anyway.  His dad was twice Kara's age, and frankly even Lee had a hard time keeping up with her.  But that was all just an excuse to put off trying to straighten out the situation.

A far easier approach would be to just ask Kara.  She was well aware of the rumors that were circulating about the two of them – everything from Kara's being pregnant to Lee giving her flight time in exchange for sex – so she wouldn't likely be surprised that an innocent experience had set off the scuttlebutt again.  They had actually laughed about the accusations on more than one occasion, as they were far closer to being brother and sister than to being lovers.  Hell, neither one of them even had any interest in a romantic relationship, with one another or otherwise.  Lee was too busy being CAG, and Kara was too busy flying.  They'd had that discussion more than once as well.

So he'd ask Kara… and it was as simple as that.  He had another two hours on shift, and then he'd need to get the rosters set up for next week – that meant two more hours in his office – and then he'd head up to quarters to talk to her.  She was off today, and if he knew her like he thought he did she would be in the gym until just about that time, anyway.  She had a body that was impressive, true, but Lee knew how hard she worked on it.  She ran daily, often taking him along as a running buddy so that she had someone to talk to.   She'd told him that if she didn't yammer the whole time, she ran too fast and the workout wasn't as effective.  Lee thought that sounded like a load of crap, but he couldn't argue with her results.  If it managed to keep him in shape as well, then that was just a bonus.  After running, she usually spent an hour or so in the gym, working with weights or whatever else she could find.  She was the only woman he knew who could do more pull-ups than he could, and it was frankly embarrassing.  Then again, she worked at it more than he did; she always had.

In all honesty, that had been one of the reasons that he'd been fairly impressed when Zak had started dating her.  She was one of the few women who had been able to keep up with the two of them without losing ground.  Zak had said she was incredible, and Lee had given his approval by not arguing.  Or rather, by arguing, he thought with a smile.  He and Zak and Kara could get into some knock-down, drag-out fights when they had worked at it.  Lords, he missed that.  Kara might argue with him now, but she didn't resort to hitting.  Usually.  Zak had never had any such qualms.  In all honesty, as childish as it was, there was nothing like a good physical attack to clear the mind and restore the senses.  Lords, he was really getting down to basics when he started thinking this way.

So it was settled, at least so far as Lee was concerned.  He'd get his work done, and then he'd check in quarters for Kara.  If she wasn't there, he'd check the gym.  Either way, he'd get her alone and let her know just what rumors were flying so that she would at least have a heads-up and be less likely to overhear a conversation such as he had and kill somebody as a result.  Kara didn't often hit him, but the same could not be said of her treatment of others.  Keeping her out of hack had become a full time job.

Lee passed by his locker and opened it up to grab a flight suit.  He had a few things to check on deck, and then he'd change back into the day uniform and tackle his paperwork.  And maybe – just maybe – he might find a way to squeeze himself in on the flight roster.  He hadn't been in the air in over a month, and it was driving him nuts.  Simulators kept his skills in line, but it just wasn't the same.  It was worth it if it meant keeping Kara from killing anyone, but it still wasn't something he enjoyed.  Maybe a shuttle flight, he thought.  Something.  Anything.  He'd figure it out.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Kara had had better days. For that matter, if she were capable she might consider removing certain days from the makeshift calendar that they were currently following. Anniversaries would be the first thing to go, followed quickly by birthdays and then all those little unofficial holidays which only served to prove just how much they had lost when the colonies had been destroyed.  
  
But Kara had little say-so about calendars, or rosters, or even schedules. So instead of trying to manage the day by groping, she was doing her best to exhaust her way through it. So far, she had finished a five-mile run, and then had spent more than two hours in the gym working her upper body until she felt rather like an overcooked noodle. She would likely be sore tomorrow, but she couldn't find it in her to care. She wasn't often sore after her workouts, but then neither was she normally so diligent in trying to wear herself down. It would have been easier to just ask Lee to switch the roster so that she could fly, but to do so she would have to remind him why and if he had forgotten then she certainly didn't want to remind him.  
  
Today would have been her wedding anniversary, if life had gone a bit differently. On the other hand, she'd also be dead, so maybe not. Or would that have been best? Snapping her mind back from the track it had taken, she realized that her arms were quivering a little more than she would have liked. Reps to the point of exhaustion were one thing, but without a spotter she was pushing the envelope. She eased the bar down to her chest for one last time, and as she started to push up she realized that she was in trouble.  
  
Kara let out a breath, gently eased the weight down to her chest and gave her arms as much of a break as she could manage without compressing her chest. She had options. She knew she had options. She could always press up with only her right arm, sliding the bar to her left while rolling right. It would get her out of the situation safely, but it would be damned embarrassing and easily heard for three compartments in any direction. That was not attention she wanted to draw. Not today.  
  
She could also call for help, but that wasn't one of her favorite options either. Independent to the core - she had always had too be - Kara was reluctant to ask anything of anyone. Asking something of them meant depending on them, and the fewer people she depended on, the better. People died. It was as simple as that. She wasn't going to depend on someone who might be dead tomorrow.  
  
Like someone was dead today.  
  
Options. Right. Kara closed her eyes and sent a little prayer that she would manage to get herself out of this without too much of a problem. She had three priorities at the moment: safety, discretion, and damaging the equipment as little as possible because there was nothing to replace it with. Thankfully, that was also the order of her priorities.  
  
She had rested her arms for a full three minutes at least when she decided that the bruise she was going to have on her chest would be bad enough without waiting any longer. She took a breath to brace herself and then exhaled in a controlled motion as she closed her eyes and lifted.  
  
The bar went up with surprising ease, and it was only when she opened her eyes to find Lee above her, his head upside down in her current position, carefully positioning the crossbar in its holders.  
  
"Thanks," she said, more than a little out of breath. Absently she wondered if she could have done it on her own, and then she dismissed the thought. What was done was done.  
  
"You should have a spotter," he reminded her with a raised eyebrow and a calm tone. It wasn't a reprimand, but rather a friendly gesture to remind her of safety.  
  
"Right," she agreed, rubbing arms that were beyond rubbery and into numb. Yes, she would hurt tomorrow. But that was okay; it would be after today.  
  
"You about through here, or do you have something else to do?" she asked.  
  
"I'm done," she told him with feeling.  
  
"Cool. If you've got the time, I want to talk."  
  
Talk. Shit. It was the last thing she wanted, but he was her best friend and Zak's brother. Did she really have a choice? "Sure. Can I catch a shower first?" she asked.  
  
"Sure. Bring your stuff, and you can even get a warm one. I happen to know the CAG."  
  
She smiled at that. It wasn't the first time he'd offered her the use of his room or shower. As CAG, he was one of the few men aboard the Galactica to have such privileges. But he had earned them, both in the responsibility he shouldered and the job he did. Normally she didn't take him up on it, but after the way she had overexerted herself the concept of warm water - a rarity in the Squadron shower bays - seemed like a great idea. From any other man she might consider the offer of his shower a pass, but not Lee. Never Lee.  
  
"Let me grab some clean clothes," she requested.  
  
He gave a nod, waited patiently while she gathered her things into a small tote bag, and then followed him from the room.  
  
Even as she dreaded the discussion she knew was coming, she also was glad that if she had to have it, she was having it with Lee. Kara had talked to the commander - Bill - about it on occasion, but there was so much pain in him that it was difficult. Discussion brought up years of pain and regret, both of what had happened and what it had caused, and she wasn't ready for that this year. If she'd had her way, she would be safely sedated in sick bay until the day was past; she figured Bill might want the same thing.  
  
Once in Lee's room - a smaller version of his father's quarters - he ushered her into the tiny bathroom and shut the door for her. He seemed edgy, but not upset. She mulled that over for a bit as she set the water temperature and slid beneath the spray with a sigh. Warm. She had been a few degrees past hot while working out, but the walk to his room had left her chilled. The warmth felt good. She borrowed his soap both for body and hair, as shampoo had long been extinct on the post-war battlestar. Still, it was better than nothing. She scrubbed herself once, then a second time just because no one was really waiting on her and the water was still warm.  
  
With no more excuses, she stepped from the shower and reached for a towel -also Lee's - and dried off her body before scrubbing her hair with the same towel. Dressing was quick and easy. She didn't bother with underclothes as she had pretty much soaked through them during her workout, but her tanks and pants were still fairly clean. She wadded up the wetter workout clothes and stuffed them back into her tote. If she didn't send them to the laundry carefully labeled and in her bag, she'd never see them again and small shirts were still hard to come by.  
  
Finally feeling almost human, she stepped from the steamy bathroom in a slight cloud to find Lee waiting with a big smile on his face. "What?" she asked with her hands on her hips.  
  
"Your hair's sticking up," he said simply.  
  
She shrugged a shoulder, ran her fingers through the wet strands a couple of times, and then took a seat across from him. "Thanks for the warm water," she told him.  
  
"Anytime," he replied. Then, more seriously, "You know that, right? That you can come here?"  
  
She nodded, but it was more in confusion than agreement. Of course she could come to Lee. She always had. Well, almost always anyway. "You have a point?" she asked almost absently.  
  
The sigh he gave told her more than the withdrawal in his eyes or the characteristic crossing of his arms. He was shutting her out, or shutting himself in. Either way, he was gearing up for something she wouldn't like.  
  
When he remained silent, just looking at her, for more than a minute she got annoyed. "You asked me to come here," she reminded him. "You're the one who wanted to talk."  
  
He nodded, his body relaxing slightly in the chair. Only slightly. "I'm trying to think of a way to bring this up without winding up with a black eye."  
  
"I'm gonna like it that much, huh?" she asked.  
  
"There's been some talk. I just... before it got back to you by way of some poor specialist who was only repeating what had been repeated, I thought I'd let you know the latest scuttlebutt."  
  
Kara grinned genuinely. "Am I pregnant again?" she asked with a smile. "Or have you left me."  
  
"This is serious," he reminded her, but his tone was lighter. He knew her too well to think that the rumor mill might bother her, so there had to be more too it. He didn't disappoint. "Rumor isn't hooking up you and me," he said simply. "It's connecting you and my dad."  
  
Kara's world stopped. For a brief moment, she could neither see nor hear, think nor breathe. The world just ceased to exist while she digested the fact that she was being accused of sleeping with the one man in the world who she respected above all others. It was so absurd as to not be real, and yet Lee wouldn't spring this on her without a reason. Motion returned to her a long time before logic sorted out the images in her mind, and she headed for the door.  
  
"Kara," Lee called, but she wasn't listening. Who in hell had started this? Why? What would Bill - the commander - think of it? She wasn't sure whether to be more insulted or angered, but one or the other was going to win.  
  
Just as her hand reached the wheel on the hatch, she felt a firm hand clasp her arm to restrain her. It was just the target her confused mind needed. She came around with her opposite arm, prepared to give a firm left hook to the person with little enough sense to get in her way while she felt like this. For better or for worse, the person had enough sense to know that the punch would be coming, and it was easily deflected. That pissed Kara off. Yet before she could bring up her right arm in the uppercut she intended, both of her arms were held firmly below the elbow, one of his legs had wrapped around both of hers, and she found herself on the floor looking up and one seriously calm man. Calm. He was calm, and she was ready to kill.   
  
She might have won the fight, but her arms hadn't yet recovered from their overtaxing less than an hour before, and her legs were still tight from her run. Fighting just wasn't an option. She tried to buck off the weight that had her held firmly, but it wasn't getting her - or him - anywhere.  
  
"Give?" he asked, his voice still totally calm even after several moments of her trying to damage him where it would hurt the most. She hadn't been successful; Zak had taught her a lot of tricks, but Lee had taught most of them to Zak.   
  
"Give," she muttered.  
  
He knew her well enough not to let her up immediately. If he had, she would have decked him without a second thought. Instead, he talked to her in a reasonable tone of voice. She wanted to wring his neck. "You and Dad have been seen having dinner together," Lee said quietly, his voice holding an almost hypnotic quality. "That's all. There was the usual assumption that you've slept your way up the ranks, but you've heard that before. I didn't tell you so that you could land yourself in the brig; I told you because you need to hear what's being said behind your back."  
  
She took a deep breath, then another. Then, to her overwhelming embarrassment, she squeezed her eyes shut against tears. Why? Kara had no idea. But the involuntary reaction was enough to drive the tension from her body, and with it Lee's weight. He moved aside, resting on his knees beside her, never taking his arms from hers. It didn't matter now, though. She couldn't lift her head, much less fight him.  
  
She gulped in a breath, and then another, as she hadn't done in almost a year. Exactly a year to the day. Oh, Lords, why now? Why in front of Lee?  
  
"Most rumors have some truth," he said, distracting her from a memory that was about to pull her under. "I just wondered what part of this one was. They figure we're a couple because you actually listen to me on occasion, and you don't date, among other things."  
  
"Like using your shower," she said in a gravelly voice. Lords, she sounded as bad as she felt.  
  
"Exactly," he agreed, his voice soft with understanding. The grip of his hands had shifted, reassuring rather than restraining, and she was almost sorry. It would have been easier to be angry with him. "So what part of this one is true?"  
  
"I ate dinner with him," she admitted. "In a public place, with plenty of witnesses. Damn, it was just the mess hall, and all we did was talk. Do you know he doesn't even go down there half the time because he doesn't have anyone to sit with?" she asked.  
  
"I know," Lee told her. "I've eaten in his office with him a few times. He always said it was so he could get work done, but I had a feeling it was something more."  
  
"One dinner," she muttered. "Lee, it's not that I care what anyone thinks, because I don't, but when the hell did my life become public property? When did his?"  
  
He must have finally realized that she wasn't a danger to him or herself - much less any hapless person passing by in the corridor - because he released her arms and leaned back on his heels to offer her an arm. She had the good sense to take it, knowing that her body was sore enough without battling to get up from the ground on her own. She assumed a sitting position next to where he was squatting.  
  
His eyes weren't meeting hers, though, and that bothered him. Neither was he speaking any longer. It seemed that once he had dropped his bomb, and then defused it as much as possible, he was at a loss. He wasn't offering his support, really. He wasn't angry with her, or defending his father. He wasn't... well, he wasn't much of anything.  
  
"Lee?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
She took a deep breath before continuing. "Since when did you start listening to the rumor mill?"  
  
"We both know it's out there," he told her evasively.  
  
"Yeah, but we also know there's more creativity than honesty in most accusations. You seem to be giving this one some credence. That bothers me."  
  
Lee gave a shrug. "I didn't know you made it a practice of eating with my dad," he told her carefully. "I mean, I know it's ridiculous - he's twice your age - but... I don't know. How often do you two get together, anyway?"  
  
Kara thought about that a moment, and also tried to determine the spirit in which it had been asked. Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, she went with honesty rather than sarcasm. "After Zak, we got to be good friends. We were both fairly alone - you and your mom had each other, but he was really hanging, and hurting. I was feeling the same way. The two of us kept one another together for those first weeks. We were both missing Zak, and it was easier to miss him with someone who understood nearby."  
  
"You could have come to me," he told her gently.  
  
Kara shook her head avidly. "No, I couldn't. I felt... responsible. Hell, I was responsible, if indirectly. Your dad knew that, and it didn't matter. He was more worried that I was in pain than that I'd done it to myself. I'd never had anyone... care that way. I didn't know anyone could. You were hurting as much, but you were so angry. I saw what you did to your father, and I knew that if you turned it on me I couldn't handle it."  
  
"You loved him," Lee argued. "I knew that."  
  
"So did your dad," she reminded him. "That didn't make a difference to you. You needed to blame someone, and Bill was willing. I was too damned weak to argue."  
  
"Bill?"  
  
She gave a grin. "Only out of uniform. He told me that he had almost forgotten his own name, and wanted someone to use it on occasion. There's not much I can say 'no' to when it comes to him. He had me doing it right after, back before I was on the Galactica. He reminded me the other night that he still needs that."  
  
Lee just looked at her. She couldn't interpret his expression to save her life. "I didn't know," he said softly, so quietly in fact that she nearly missed the words. He was standing now, and reached down to tug her to her feet. She accepted the help, wincing at the discomfort of sore muscles. "You okay?" he asked.  
  
"I'll be fine," she told him, only now realizing that he had effectively distracted her from the reason she had been driving herself to exhaustion. Moments earlier, she had been fighting tears. Now she was just... numb. She preferred the feeling immensely.  
  
"You didn't seem okay in the gym," he said as he turned to sit back down, this time in a chair.  
  
So much for numbness or evasion. "I pushed it a little. I was off, and bored, and it just made sense to get in a little longer workout."  
  
"Right. Now tell me what's bugging you?"  
  
Kara gave him a glare. Damned man knew her too frakking well. "Drop it, Lee," she said simply.  
  
He looked at her, and for a single precious moment she thought he just might. "Would you tell my dad?" he asked. She couldn't place the note in his voice, but she didn't like it.  
  
Irritation burned through her. "I wouldn't have to," she snapped out.  
  
His blank look confirmed what she had suspected; he was oblivious to the significance that the day held. "Lee, just drop it," she requested. "I appreciate the shower, and the information. If I decide to have dinner with a friend in the future, I'll be sure to hide out like a criminal so that they can really get the speculation going. That is, if he's even willing to be seen with me. Shit, I didn't even think of what this was going to mean to him. I'm just a pilot, but he's in charge of the damned military." Her gaze snapped to Lee's. "How bad is it?" she asked.  
  
"How bad is what?"  
  
"The flak your dad is taking?" she asked with a good deal more concern than she had felt for her own less-than-sterling reputation.  
  
"I don't know," he admitted. "I haven't talked to him."  
  
"Shit," she muttered.  
  
"What?"  
  
"He's the frakking Commander, Lee. Everything he does is under a microscope. Do you even have a clue how much this crew respects him? Do you know what that means to him, or what this is going to do to him?"  
  
"I have a good idea," he said as he crossed his arms before him. He was guarding again, although she didn't know why. "I've been on this ship for three years, Kara. My dad is just shy of being a Holy Lord. I hear about him at least ten times a day, and I have to live up to it because I'm his son." The last was said with a clear bitterness that Kara recognized all too well.  
  
"You don't have to be your father," she told him, her irritation fading slightly. "Not any more than Zak had to be you. Just be yourself and do what you do best. If Zak had done the same, he'd still be alive."  
  
"What do you mean by that?" he asked.  
  
She shook her head. She had already said too much, and Kara didn't want to go into it again. "Forget it, Lee. You just don't need to be like your dad; not unless it's what you want. Life is too short to be anything you aren't meant to be."  
  
"You mean Zak?"  
  
"I don't mean anything. Lee, I'm tired. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"Kara, don't do this to me," he asked.  
  
Closing her eyes against the gentleness in his voice, she tried to martial some defense against him. She couldn't do it; where the Adamas were concerned, she never had been able to. "Do what?"  
  
"Shut me out," he said. "After we lost him, I know I was an ass. I've apologized to dad, and to you... hell, I don't even know how many times. You always say it's over, but then when something's on your mind, you just shut down. I can't read your mind."  
  
Kara closed eyes that were beginning to burn, her throat hurting as she tried to get in a breath past the tightness there. "Zak didn't want to be a pilot, Lee," she finally said. "He wanted to be you. He wanted to be your father. He wanted to be... good enough for me, and he never thought he was because I could fly. But he wasn't a pilot; not really. He was an artist, and a gentleman, and sometimes a serious joker. But he wasn't a pilot, Lee. He wasn't ever supposed to be a pilot."  
  
"I know," Lee said, rising to meet her where she was still standing, and had been since he'd helped her stand moments before. "I must have told him a hundred times that he wasn't a pilot. It just made him try harder."  
  
Kara sniffed, focusing her attention over Lee's shoulder and at the wall behind him. The feel of warm, solid arms around her body took her by surprise. She had cried her heart out in Bill's arms on a dozen occasions, and he'd lost his composure around her more than once although he'd never lost his dignity. But she had never fallen apart with Lee. She had never let him see this. But his arms were warm, and tight, and it felt so good to be held again, even if it was just by a friend. He was a friend who understood, or at least one who would try to. "It still hurts," she admitted.  
  
"I know," he told her. And then he kissed her - on the top of her head - just as his father had always done; just as Zak had often done. It was a simple sign of affection, and acceptance, and it was more than she could take.  
  
The tears started silently, eased into a gentle cry, and held there for what felt like forever. Lee never let go, and he never said a word. There was nothing he could say, and he seemed to know it. As the tears finally subsided, leaving an emotional depletion as complete as her physical exhaustion, she spoke softly. "Five years," she whispered.  
  
"Hmm?" His voice was gravelly, hoarse.  
  
"Today would have been five years - our anniversary."  
  
"Lords, Kara," he said, and his voice broke softly. "I didn't even think."  
  
"No reason you should have," she told him with a sniffle. "We never even sent out the invitations. We had ordered them, though. They came a week after the funeral. I still have one in my locker."  
  
His arms tightened, but she didn't mind. Oddly, she hadn't reached out to hold him though. Her arms were caught between their chests, her hands grasping the pockets of his uniform. She was holding on for dear life, and it was just about the only think holding her up. Her mind was blank, her thoughts scattered and lost, her nose stuffy and her chest hurting. Her arms and legs ached with overuse, and her back was starting to make its presence known. On top of that, she was just plain tired.  
  
So Kara never really knew when she went from desperate clinging into sleep. She didn't realize when Lee eased her body down to his bed and tugged off her running shoes. She didn't feel the blanket he tossed over her, and she didn't feel the shifting of the bed as he sat next to her, brushing her hair back from her face and just watching her sleep with deep regret.   
  
A very long time later, Kara didn't notice when the bed moved once more, the lights in the room dimmed and the hatch opened and closed, leaving her alone in the bed of her fianc's brother. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
William Adama was no stranger to controversy. The last few years especially had become a battle regarding the introduction of technology, his unwillingness to advance with the times, and his inability to progress in general. He had been the old fogy, the useless old man who needed to retire, and the last throwback to a bygone age. A lot of it was true, but the reasons given had been speculation; he had never feared technology, he had feared the Cylons.  
  
When the war had first begun, he'd also fielded rumors that he and the president were having a torrid affair. That particular one had humored him to the point to where he'd tracked down its source. The two primary events responsible had been an absent comment he'd made on the bridge about 'making babies' that had been taken far out of context combined with one of the president's aides hearing her say something similar. The favors he'd called in to get that information had been many and varied, but the laugh he'd received - and later shared with Roslin, who hadn't found it nearly so funny - had been well worth it. Yes, he had spies everywhere.  
  
Over many years, he'd found that most rumors dissipated quickly when left alone. Arguments only leant credence to the half-truths or outright lies, and attempts at proof were most often wasted. By tomorrow, the rumors would have changed, the interest faded, and the gossip would attach itself to someone else. Some days it seemed like the wait was going to be interminable, and this was one of them.  
  
The best part of being close to his crew was that he trusted them, and they him. Rarely did anything get in his way while in CIC. He had respect for the crew's jobs, and they followed his instructions without argument. Today had been another matter. Every request had elicited a sideways glance before compliance, and more than one whispered conversation had ended with his walking up to the individuals in question. It was odd, and it was also detrimental to getting the job done. He wasn't used to having his men question his orders, much less his morals.  
  
He wasn't the commander of a battlestar because he was stupid, though. He had heard more than one whispered word before his presence had been noted, and he'd put together pieces from the glances and smiles. Some of the reactions were amused, almost approving, but others were vindictive. Still, every conclusion seemed to come back to the same insidious rumor. Apparently, he and Lieutenant Thrace were having an affair.  
  
It was ludicrous. It was silly. Lords, if he were thirty - even twenty - years younger it might be flattering, but as it was the insinuations made him feel like an old man, and they brought to the fore his naturally chivalrous inclinations towards Kara. He'd always felt that way towards her, but it had nothing to do with a steamy affair. He simply saw a beautiful woman who acted far tougher than she had to, or should have to. He enjoyed her company, and yes they shared a past. But none of those facts were new, and neither had they been an issue in the past. Now - after one dinner in a public location - they were both fodder for gossip.  
  
Most of the rumors had seemed to center on his having had dinner with her in the mess hall. He'd found that almost humorous, because everyone - literally - had to eat. They hadn't done anything wrong. So for the entire day he'd ignored the conversations, rolled his eyes when Saul had asked him what the problem was, and in the back of his mind he had worried.  
  
He hadn't worried because of the rumors, though. He had worried because of the date. It was the first time in the five years since his youngest son's death when he hadn't been able to find a convenient excuse to check up on his favorite pilot. Any other day he could have slipped out, but given the rumors flying around CIC he thought his appearance at her squadron quarters, the gym, or the ready-room wouldn't have been questioned. With half of his command crew thinking that he was trying to get into some very young pants, it would be fuel for an already ridiculous rumor. He hadn't wanted to lend any tylium to the fire.  
  
But the worry was still bothering him. Kara wasn't as strong as she liked to think she was, and dates had a way of bringing out pain as nothing else could. He could remember Iilya calling him each year on Zak's birthday with the pretense of checking some technical detail of their divorce. Truthfully, she had just wanted to share her memories with someone who remembered him. She hadn't wanted to forget Zak on the day that reminded her the most of him, and William had been grateful that she'd trusted him so much. It had been one of those conversations which had led to a reconciliation of sorts, or at least mutual forgiveness for past hurts. It hasn't all been bad, they'd decided, because their relationship had created Lee and Zak.  
  
That didn't mean that sleep came easy on this night, or - glancing at the clock - this morning. He shuffled through the never-ending stack of work before him, convinced that paper must multiply when not being watched. He was too tired to face it, and yet his mind was moving too quickly for sleep. How was Kara? Was she okay? Did she need... someone?  
  
He was almost ready to try sleep once more, something that had alluded him the last three times he had lain down, when he heard the faint sound. Gratefully, he stood from the chair at his desk, grabbed a robe, and went to find out who was there.  
  
He rubbed his eyes as he approached his door. The banging on it had been quiet rather than pounding. At three in the morning, there were precious few people who would bother him without claxons accompanying their arrival. And of those few - given the date - one of them was most likely.   
  
He wasn't wrong. As he opened the door, he saw a slightly rumpled but otherwise normal looking Kara Thrace. "Hi," she said almost sheepishly, and the grin was pure Kara. Lords, no wonder people were gossiping. She was beautiful in a way that was clean and pure and just plain sweet; it was no wonder they thought he might use rank and history to take advantage of it. If she hadn't been as dear to him as a daughter, he might have suspected the same thing himself.  
  
He had to smile at the lopsided grin she had given him. "Come on in," he told her, opening the door fully. It surprised him when she seemed to look to both sides before stepping into the room, and yet it didn't. She must have been getting the same sidelong glances he had. "The coast should be clear," he told her in a mock-conspiratorial voice.  
  
Her grin widened, as had been his intent, and she followed him into the room. He gestured her to a chair, then turned to take a seat next to her. The grin had left her face by then, leaving a somber type of worry. She had the most expressive eyes he'd ever seen.   
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
She gave a nod towards his very rumpled bed. "I didn't mean to get you up."  
  
He shook his head at that. "I've been up and down all night," he admitted. "Insomnia is the bane of command. Actually, you're a welcome diversion." He looked at her for a moment, noting the red rims and slight shadows beneath large green eyes, neither of which had been visible in the dimmed corridor lighting. He leaned forward to take her hands into his; they were ice cold. "I wanted to come see if you were okay," he told her. "But I figured that you knew where I was if you needed anything."  
  
"I was fine," she said with a shrug, and all trace of pleasure was gone from her. That fast. Her emotions ran strong and very, very deep. "I did my usual workout, then ran a little more, and hit the gym for a couple of hours." She stared at her hands in his for a moment before continuing. "Then I cried it out and slept it off."  
  
"I'm sorry," he told her gently. "You shouldn't have had to go through that alone."  
  
She shook her head. "Actually, I didn't," she admitted. "Lee kinda wedged his way in, and it all got mixed up. Anyway, he was there for the worst of it, so I guess I've now fallen completely apart for every Adama male. Must be some kind of a record."  
  
He squeezed her hands. "You're allowed. Although I'm surprised you told Lee."  
  
She shrugged at that. "It wasn't deliberate," she admitted. "He wanted to talk to me about... well, what I want to talk to you about. Anyway, we talked some, I got mad, he kept me out of the brig, and somewhere in all the adrenaline I wound up pouring my heart out." She gave a shrug, and a hint of her previous grin. "I fell asleep afterwards."  
  
Bill nodded, then gestured to the coffee pot on a corner table. It was one of his few privileges of command, and he didn't regret having it. "Want some coffee?"  
  
She shook her head at that. "I've already got my days and nights screwed up beyond redemption," she said. "I just... if you were awake, I wanted to ask you about something."  
  
"Ask away," he suggested.  
  
"Lee said..." she began, and then stopped. She took a deep breath, and finally looked up to meet his eyes. "There are a rumors that we're romantically involved," she said in clipped tones. "I wanted to know if you're taking any flak for that, and if you are then I wanted to apologize."  
  
"Apologize? For what? You haven't done anything wrong. You ate dinner with an old man; it's dull as hell, but not a criminal offense."  
  
She shook her head at his joking approach. "I know this is going to cause you problems. It seems like the better things go for the fleet, the worse people need to make up their own little dramas."  
  
He grinned. "You've been through the rumor mill before," he reminded her. "This is no different."  
  
"Yeah, I know," she muttered grimly. "I'm pregnant, I'm gay, and I'm sleeping with your son. I think all three of those hit in the same week. But this is different. Lee and I can laugh about it because we've always had that crap said behind our backs. But you..."  
  
"I...?" he prompted.  
  
"The crew respects you. They've never liked Lee because he came in from the outside. He could be a Holy Lord and they would still find fault. And me? I give them reason to take shots at me. I don't hang with anyone in particular, I beat the shit out of them at cards, and I'm not above knocking them into the next room if they're on my nerves. But you... I guess..."  
  
"I deserve better?" he asked, and he couldn't keep the smile in. When were people in general going to realize that he was as human as any of them?  
  
"You do," she insisted. "None of us would be alive if you hadn't held things together at the beginning. Lee and I ask for this garbage, but you haven't done anything to deserve it. I guess... I just don't want you to have to deal with the crap."  
  
His smile gentled. "Kara, if anything, I'm simply flattered."  
  
"What?" Her hands released his as she pulled back in surprise. Oh, her eyes. He almost laughed as they widened to encompass half of her face.  
  
"At my age, if they want to think I can keep up with you, I'd say it's the ultimate compliment." The last he told her with a wink.  
  
She shook her head, but at least the deadly-serious expression was fading somewhat. "You do so much for everyone," she said simply. "And you don't even take time to sleep. Why would people... I just don't understand the appeal of telling lies, I suppose. It seems pretty useless."  
  
"Entertainment value, I suppose."  
  
"Right," she muttered in disgust. "At the expense of others."  
  
"You said Lee told you. How was he taking it?"  
  
She shrugged, and then winced as she pulled one leg up to the seat of her chair and rested her chin on her knee. "He was concerned," she said. "Although I think it was more about what trouble I'd get into killing whoever started the rumor than the rumor itself. He has enough good sense to know it isn't true, and you know he's been through the rumors as well."  
  
"Since he was a kid," William agreed. "He's battled them his whole life. Everyone just assumed that being the son of a known officer in the Colonial Service was a leg-up in the ranks, but nothing could be further from the truth. They expected twice as much from him to allow half the credit, and they never let him forget for a minute that he wasn't the first, and might never be the best. He used to come home so furious...."  
  
"Sounds like Zak," she said softly. "No matter how well he did something, he always compared it to what Lee was doing, or what you had done. He never... sorry, Lee and I got off on this and I guess it's stuck in my head."  
  
"What is?"  
  
"That Zak never felt... good enough. He couldn't just be himself; he had to be as good as his family. I know none of you ever pushed him, and hell, Lee discouraged him as much as possible because he could see that the talent wasn't there. But Zak never listened. He was never... satisfied."  
  
"Did he... resent that you could do what he couldn't?"  
  
Kara looked thoughtful. "He never acted like it. When he was upset, he usually got really quiet. I never knew what he was mad about until he'd worked through it and could talk about it. He was funny that way."  
  
"Iilya was the same way," William said with a fond smile. "Sometimes we went days saying no more than necessary to manage to be civil. She would be furious and had no clue how to tell me, and I just wanted her to tell me what I'd done so I could fix it and it could be over and done. There were times we spent a whole leave time that way." He shook his head, his smile fading. "So damned much wasted time."  
  
Kara's head lowered, and when it came back up her eyes were shiny but there was no trace of tears. It didn't surprise him; she didn't cry often. She didn't allow herself that. "I liked Iilya," she said softly. "She looked a lot like Lee, but she acted just like Zak. Lords, it was a weird combination. Lee is just the reverse; He looks like her, but he acts more like you. It must be so strange to see pieces of yourself in someone else."  
  
"Sometimes," he admitted. "Sometimes it's gratifying, and other times it's... disappointing. He makes the same mistakes I do. He struggles with the same things. And yet some things that are so clear to me he just..."  
  
"Misses entirely?" she asked.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Give him credit for trying," she advised. "He doesn't mean to be a... well, a man."  
  
"Hey," William said with a laugh, tossing the nearest object her way. It happened to be a blanket he'd tossed over on the chair hours earlier.  
  
Kara just grinned at him, catching the blanket easily despite a grimace as she lowered her foot quickly to the floor in order to maintain her balance. "Well, it's true," she said. "Men never say what they mean; they just dance around it."  
  
He shook his head, still laughing, but was unable to find another soft projectile. "I'm out of ammunition, so I suppose you'll get away with that last remark."  
  
But she was smiling. On a day such as this, that was enough. And she had made him feel worlds younger just by treating him as a person - a friend - rather than as the leader of the military or the savior of mankind.  
  
"We could always resort to hand-to-hand," she laughed, putting up her fists in a mock-boxing pose.  
  
"I think you might have me in that as well," he admitted reluctantly. "Although twenty years ago..."  
  
"I would have still knocked your block off," she said with a wink.  
  
"Not likely. I took several awards at the academy, and many thereafter. I may not look like it now, but I was quick on my feet, and had a hell of a right hook."  
  
"But you would play fair," she said with a wide grin. "You always do."  
  
He laughed at her again. "You are so good for me," he muttered, surprised when he heard the words. He hadn't meant to say them aloud.  
  
"Same here," she told him, her voice just as soft. "Whenever I wonder if it was all real - if I ever really had him - I just look at you and I know it wasn't a dream. Same eyes, same smile, and the same stupid sense of humor. It's a little easier to have him gone when I see a part of him every day." She looked at him a long moment, then shook her head and blushed a bright red. "Lords, that sounds stupid. You must think I'm an idiot."  
  
"No," he corrected with another gentle smile. "It sounds right. And it makes me happy that I can help. When we lost him, all I wanted to do was to make the hurting stop for you, but there was nothing.... Day after day, nothing I could say or do would take that pain away. There were times when I wondered if the... resemblance was causing the problem to be even worse. I'm glad it wasn't true."  
  
"I really didn't notice it until just lately," she admitted. "Not consciously, anyway. Maybe I've just been missing him and looking for pieces of him in others. I don't know. When I'm around you, he feels just a little closer."  
  
William thought about that for a moment, curious. "What about Lee?"  
  
She cocked her head to the side. "Lee?"  
  
"Closer or further away?" he asked. "How does Lee make you feel about Zak."  
  
She paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Comfortable," she admitted. "In a way like you, but in a way... I don't know. I guess he's familiar, the way Zak was. I knew him before Zak even, worked with him at the academy, and then even after we lost him Lee and I kept in touch. It was just a note or letter here or there, maybe a couple of calls, but we kept tabs on one another. Lords, even when we were mad at each other we kept it civil; that's how close we were. Are. Hell, I don't know. How does he make me feel? I guess it's like with you; he just makes me feel like a person. It's not as related to Zak with him though, it's just Lee and I when we're together. Just friends."  
  
"Don't you normally?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Feel like a person?"  
  
She shrugged, but the expression on her face told him far more than the absent gesture. She was holding something back, likely because she didn't want to get anyone into trouble.  
  
"Kara?"  
  
"I've... never gotten along with people really well," she said. "Maybe it was being juggled from home to home as a kid; I'm not sure. I didn't make friends easily because either I'd be gone or they would. After a while, you just quit trying. You get along with the kids around you, but that's about all. You can't take any more than that. I've already told you that I don't hang with anyone. The girls don't want me around because I don't go in for the makeup and fancy clothes, and I don't gossip about men or who's frakking who. I didn't even before the war because it just seemed so useless. Zak and Lee never cared about that, though. And the rumors are that I'm gay because I won't date, but the guys don't ask me out because I can out fly and out fight them. And the few that have weren't worth a repeat performance, trust me. Around the girls I feel... stupid. And around the men I'm just mad because it pisses me off when they can't accept me as an equal. I don't know how you managed with Lee and Zak, but that shit never mattered to them; doesn't matter. I'm just Kara. Yeah, I can fly and I live in uniform, but I'm still Kara."  
  
"That was a mouthful," William told her. "Maybe Zak wasn't the only one who held things in. As for the boys, you'll have Iilya to thank. I wasn't there enough to teach them much of anything."  
  
"They're still like you. Or Zak was... Lee is." She shrugged. "It's all stupid," she said on a sigh. "The world is mostly over, and I'm worried about not having a date, or an anniversary that I didn't get. I guess I need to reevaluate some priorities."  
  
"You need to cut yourself some slack," he told her. "And I'll order that if I have to."  
  
She smiled at the lame joke. One couldn't order emotions; Lords knew he would if he could. "I'm just tired," she said softly. "I crashed in Lee's room, but only for a couple of hours. When I woke up, I thought you might...."  
  
"Be having a hard time?"  
  
She shrugged, but didn't answer.  
  
"I was," he told her. "Mostly because I was worried about you. There are times you remind me so much of Iilya. You are beautiful and determined and you care so much. But she didn't have the strength she needed to manage those emotions, and she didn't know when to admit that. You're strong enough, Kara. Not just for what's left of the world, but for what's inside yourself as well. You care enough to worry about an old man, and you don't even realize how special that is. Someone needs to be worrying about you, too."  
  
"I'm fine," she hedged, the blush on her pale skin both obvious and charming. "Really. Remember, tougher than I look?"  
  
"Kara, you don't have to do it alone. Please remember that. I'm always here to listen, and I'm sure Lee would make the same offer. He worries about you, too. Why do you think you pull more patrols than anyone else in the squad?"  
  
"Because I'm the best he has?" she offered with half a grin.  
  
"There is that," William agreed. "But also because you need to fly, and Lee knows that. If you let him, he'll take care of you."  
  
She looked at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. "You're not starting to play match-maker, are you?" she asked.  
  
"I've always wanted you for a daughter," he told her with a soft smile, hoping she didn't know how serious he was about the subject. "But no, I'm not pushing. Although grandchildren would be wonderful."  
  
"I'd rather fly than make babies," she told him honestly. "I'll serve the fleet that way if you don't mind."  
  
With a soft expression he let her off the hook. "I don't mind. You fly better than anyone I've ever seen. Every time I see you fly, I miss it a little more. Damned eyesight took that from me, but I can still appreciate a beautiful flight. Think of me once in a while when you're out there. I'm not getting any younger."  
  
She finally gave him a true smile. "Nope, you're getting older. Day after tomorrow, isn't it?"  
  
"How do you remember these things?" he asked with a slight blush. Even Iilya had trouble remembering his birthday, although she remembered Lee's and Zak's with amazing accuracy.  
  
"ZaK," she told him, but her smile didn't fade. "He planned the wedding so that he'd be sure to get in a birthday party while you were on leave. He said he hadn't been able to do it in years, and you couldn't refuse to show up to his wedding."  
  
"I hate parties," William said with a wry grin, pleased that she was smiling despite the reference to his youngest son. "And he knew it."  
  
"Parties are good," she told him with a wink. "They keep you young."  
  
"Don't even think it, young lady," he told her with mock severity that wasn't nearly as feigned as he wanted it to be. He really did hate parties.  
  
"Hey, I didn't say a word." She looked at her wrist and her face fell slightly. "Or did I say way too many? I've kept you up all night."  
  
"I'm not on duty today," he told her with reassurance. "Saul's gift to me, so to speak. He and Kelly are covering the shifts so I get to sleep." He glanced over at the rumpled bed, which had yet to actually be put to real use. "Too bad they couldn't finagle a sedative to go with it."  
  
"Well, try anyway," she suggested as she stood. This time her expression was beyond grimace or wince, she was stiff and hurting.  
  
"Are you okay?" he asked, rising to take her arm and steady her. She flinched slightly from even his gentle grip.  
  
"I overdid it in the gym," she admitted. "Trying to tire out enough to sleep. It worked, I guess, but I don't recommend it."  
  
"Does Lee know? You shouldn't be in a cockpit when you're this stiff."  
  
"He caught the fallout," she told him. "I'm sure he's figured it out and adjusted schedules accordingly. Knowing him he'll steal the patrol; he hasn't been in the air for a month.  
  
"Then it sounds like he deserves it. You need some sleep as well."  
  
"Good night, Commander."  
  
He glared at her pointedly, wondering if they needed to have this discussion once again.  
  
"Sorry," she said with a wry smile. "Good night, Bill."  
  
"Better. Good night, Kara." He reached out to touch her cheek, soft and warm and alive. Then he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead. She was a good person; good enough to care for an old man, and to put others before herself. The sad part was that she didn't even know it, and no one around her would appreciate it.  
  
She left quickly, and only much later would he realize that she was probably trying not to be seen, not to fuel further rumors that would make their lives a living hell.  
  
William Adama was awake a long time after she'd left him there. His mind was as active as it had been before she'd arrived, but the thoughts were on a far more current level. Was he pushing Kara towards Lee? Was that a good thing? Was he trying to live vicariously through his son? Would Lee and Kara even make a decent couple. They had a hell of a lot in common, and an understanding of one another that he doubted even they could comprehend. He had seen what misunderstandings could do to a relationship, and it was something that they would never have to cope with. For that reason if no other, the two of them should at least be considering the possibilities.  
  
The questions seemed an endless circle, but one that he could at least concentrate on while lying down. He did so, plumping his pillow and covering himself as warmly as possible in the bed. Lords, he missed having a woman in his arms. Not just for the sex; he was old enough that he'd nearly forgotten what that was like. But he remembered Iilya's warmth against him, the way she kept the cold of the night at bay and made him feel - whatever his limitations as a husband or father - that he was at least a man.  
  
Somewhere between memory and concern, he began to drift. Images of his sons overlapped with Kara and Iilya laughing, children playing, and nuclear weapons exploding. The chaos never really sorted itself out - never assumed a clear meaning - but finally it faded to black and William Adama was able to sleep. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

Almost finished.  With two more final touches, Kara placed her wrapped gift on the edge of his table and checked her wrist for the time.  Almost there.  Another twenty minutes, and her surprise would be underway.

Kara might hate the calendar, and she might despise holidays in general, but she could appreciate the need for a good cheering-up celebration and she felt that was exactly what her commander – Bill – needed.  He had seemed just a little too quiet lately.  It wasn't that she was in the best position to know – they didn't speak daily or anything – but she could see the signs of depression.  Lords knew she'd dealt with it enough in the last five years to see it in another.

Regardless of the mundane nature of their recent activities, their Commander was still more commander than person, and he needed a reminder that he was pretty special as a person as well as a commander.  She hadn't realized just how great that need had been until she'd eaten dinner with him days before.  Yes, it had generated rumors, but that was the whole point.  When just sitting down to dinner with another person was enough to set the rumor mill to buzzing, something was definitely amiss.

So Kara had begun to plan.  It had been a scrambled and confused effort, granted.  She wasn't used to trying to do for others, and she was still learning the process.  That was something that worried her as well – when she was so wrapped up in her own life that she wasn't doing a thing for those around her, it was time to take inventory of the situation. 

So in pure Kara Thrace fashion, she had fabricated some discussions on Colonial One that the Commander would be expected to attend, and then she had begged, pleaded, and almost cried as she had talked Lee into giving her the routine transport assignment.  He had rolled his eyes as he'd done so, but finally he had complied.  Better yet, he had insisted that if she was going to be transporting the Commander of the Galactica, then she was to do so in a Raptor rather than a basic shuttle which had no armament.

Roslin wasn't even going to be aboard her ship, so it would be a quick if confusing trip, and then she would bring the Commander home.  It wasn't the visit that was the important part, anyway.  It was the getting there and back, however short the flight would be.  The President's ship was practically under the Galactica's wing – if she'd had wings that was – due to the importance of the political cabinet aboard, but it had been the best Kara could do on short notice.  And in the midst of it all, she would give him the greatest gift that she could think of.  She only hoped he appreciated the effort; it hadn't been easy to manage.

Kara's eyes strayed to the wrapped gift she had set on the edge of her desk.  It wasn't anything really special – only a book of old Caprican poetry – but books were scarce, this one was extremely special to her, and there was a little something extra for him in the back.  She had debated about whether to remove the pages from the book, not really wanting to share certain parts of herself with anyone, but he deserved more than five minutes of freedom and a simple book.  How did a woman say 'thank you' to a man who had saved her life more times than he knew?  How did she thank him, when he wouldn't accept it?  She hoped she had found a way.

Kara made the quick walk down to the ready-room so that she could get into her flight suit for the trip.  The practiced motions were efficient and effective.  She was dressed and at the Raptor with ten minutes to spare.  She ran a preflight check – although one had already been done by Tyrol's crew – and made sure that everything was in order for the flight.  By the time she took the pilot's seat, she was doing her best to sit still.  She loved surprises – so long as they weren't directed in her direction – and she couldn't wait to spring this one on Bill.  How had she forgotten how much fun it could be to do something nice for someone else?

The expression on Commander Adama's face when he saw his pilot was enough to make all the begging called-in and favors worth it.  He gave her a gentle smile, and a raised eyebrow as a question.

"Beats being grounded," she told him with a wink.  "If you'll have a seat and buckle in, we'll get ready for launch."

He shook his head at her, but didn't say a world.  He followed her instructions and strapped into the co-pilot seat used when the Raptor was not in battle.  It provided a nice view of space that he was rarely allowed as they felt the lift take them up to the flight deck, and they followed procedure to launch.  Normally he was tucked carefully into a simple shuttle and accompanied by Vipers.  With the majority of their Viper fleet undergoing some overhauls, this was one of the few times that she could finagle the Raptor to fly him from point to point.

"It's a step down from a Viper, don't you think?" he asked her once they had cleared the Galactica and had closed the communication frequencies to CIC.  "What did you do to get downgraded to shuttling VIPs around?"

"Actually, it was a request," she admitted, trying her best not to smile.  "With the fleet in repair, using a Raptor was safer.  Besides, I Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday."

He rolled his eyes.  "I told you I wanted to forget that," he muttered.  "I'm too old to be counting."

She gave him wide grin.  "But you're not too old to fly," she said softly.  Then, with no more warning than that, she touched a couple of buttons and transferred control to his side of the panel.

He was quick on the uptake, but the shock on his face was still clear.  "You know I'm not cleared for flight status," he muttered as his hands took to the controls with a natural grace that bespoke years of flight.

"You gonna tell anyone?" she asked as she sat back in her chair and rotated it slightly to watch him.  He was intent on the controls, no doubt trying to remember the sequences and details of Raptor flight.  But it was simpler than a Viper, and it was the best she could do.  She hoped it was enough.

With barely a hiccup in their course, he brought the Raptor back under full control, making the minute course adjustments almost absently.  "Lords, I've missed this," he whispered almost reverently.

"I thought you might have," she replied.  "Happy birthday, Bill."

They were in uniform, so it was probably inappropriate, but she didn't care.  She had done this as a friend, and not as a subordinate.  She had wanted to see that look of peace on his face, of satisfaction.  She knew the feeling all to well, and it was one in which only a pilot could really understand.  When he had lost his wings to failing eyesight, it had been like caging a bird of prey.  He might be kept alive, fed and housed, but he hadn't had the chance to truly live.  She didn't really know how he had survived it.  She'd seen the old footage of his flights – both during and after the war – and he had been something to see.  He'd had the natural feel for a plane that couldn't be learned.  She had it herself, so she recognized it.  Lee didn't have the same, but he had a determination and skill that made up for his lack of instinct. 

But to some – like her, and like Bill – flight was more than something they did.  It was what they were – how they defined themselves.  Taking away his flight status had been akin to cutting off his legs so far as she was concerned.  She didn't know how he had lived through it, much less how he had moved beyond it to command first smaller ships, and then Battlestars.

Her thoughts were brought back to the present as she watched their course heading.  They were rapidly approaching Colonial One.  "You feel up to landing her?" Kara asked softly.

"God, yes," he whispered, the look on his face just shy of rapture.  Kara had always considered flight to be better than sex for the adrenaline and pure freedom; she had a feeling that Bill felt the same way.

"I'll be right here if you run into any snags.  Just be sure to switch back over before they do the post-flight."

He nodded, too absorbed in what he was doing to really acknowledge anything else.  She smiled at that; he was a pilot to the core. 

She called in the landing request, and then went through the standard protocol during the landing itself.  If there was a bit of confusion regarding why he was there, or what meeting was scheduled, he certainly didn't seem to let it bother him.  He landed with only a little skip before engaging mag-locks, and Kara had to smile.  She hadn't been sure she would be that accurate in a Raptor after so many years off the stick.  The little error could easily be explained by her normal performance as a Viper pilot, so she didn't think anyone would notice.  Certainly nobody would suspect that the Commander would pilot his own craft.

Yet he had done so, and the grateful look he gave her as she transferred controls back over to her own console so that they could manage a post-flight check without questions had been worth every moment of planning, every lie she'd told, and every favor she'd called in.

As Kara knew would be the case, the President wasn't even aboard.  She was off taking care of some detail within the fleet – some political irritation that she knew Bill was more than willing to ignore – rather than waiting on a meeting.  He gave her a knowing glance as they cross-checked schedules with Billy, the President's assistant, who could not apologize frequently enough to suit himself.  The commander took the entire situation in good humor, having realized at some point that the entire "mission" was a fabrication designed to get him into the Raptor with Kara.  He graciously agreed to reschedule at the President's convenience, and they went back to the Raptor. 

Kara had to smile as he peeked over her shoulder as she repeated the pre-flight on the craft just as she had done before.  This crew was less accepting than Tyrol's had become, taking mild offense that she would question their capabilities with refueling and inspection.  She didn't care; if she flew it, she checked it.  It appeared her Commander had the same idea as he watched her closely, nodding with approval as she went down the list on the clipboard.

She didn't even make the pretense of taking off for him this time.  She transferred her control to him immediately, allowing him to launchon his own, fly the short distance, and land the Raptor without so much as a bump.  She couldn't have done it more cleanly herself.

"Slick," she commented.

"Some things you don't forget," he admitted.  They had spoken little, and even then only words necessary to manage the flight, adjust controls, and allow them to coordinate with flight control.

"I see that."

He smiled at her as he released the restraint harness which held him in the co-pilot seat.  "Days like this," he said softly.  "Opportunities like this you can't forget.  I won't forget.  Thank you."

"Just don't turn me in for breach of regs," she requested with a wink.

"This… 'thank you' seems so inadequate," he began.  She stopped him quickly.

"This isn't over," she informed him with a mock indignation that few in the fleet would chance.  "In fact, it's not even the best part.  I'm on duty until seventeen-thirty, but then I plan on meeting you in your quarters with a surprise."

He shook his head at that.  "I hate parties," he reminded her.  "And I hate surprise parties even more.  Please don't do this."

Kara looked to her side and ensured that the landing platform hadn't lowered yet.  Their coms were off; they were alone.  "Trust me," she requested softly.  "If I can figure out what you wanted to do the most, I can probably figure out what you don't want too.  It's not all that hard."

"You know that this birthday makes me eligible for the mandatory retirement clause," he said carefully.  "I would rather it not be broadcast."

"Just between us," she assured him, although eventually that's what the meeting with the President would be about.  "We have a petition signed by every man and woman on this ship that requests you be offered the opportunity to remain in your position until you're ready to leave it.  It's not part of the birthday present, but I thought it might relieve your worry.  We won't be putting Tigh in command of the Galactica for a long time."

Bill smiled at that.  "He's a good man," he argued.  "I couldn't have asked for a better second in command."

"But he's not a commander," Kara argued.  "And that's not personality conflict talking.  He doesn't have the… judgment.  He doesn't think the way you do.  We need you."

"For now," Bill reluctantly agreed.  "I won't live forever."

"Please," she requested, placing a hand on his arm with her entreaty.  "Not today.  I know eventually we'll have to think about this, but not today.  I've lost people I've cared about before, and I know I will again.  For today, it's your birthday and the two guys I care the most about in the world are alive and well.  Cylons be damned, I'm not ready to give this up.  Not today."

"Not today," he agreed, covering her hand with his own.  At the sound of the Raptor's docking ramp lowering, he patted her hand once and then let her release him.  "So, seventeen-thirty?"

"You've got it.  And I promise not to tell."

"What's the dress code?" he asked.

She grinned.  "Comfortable," she answered simply.  "If you put on a dress uniform I promise to walk out on you."

He laughed at that.  "Thank you," he said.  Then as he looked around the control console of the Raptor, he added, "For so much."

"You belong in the air," she said on a whisper.

If he heard her, he didn't reply.

Kara had her basket packed as she approached the Commander's quarters.  Thanks to her "mission" earlier in the day, she'd managed to finagle the evening off, and she was planning to use it to her advantage. 

Three knocks was all it took, and Bill answered his hatch in what was as close to an "off duty" uniform as any of them managed.  Uniform pants, regulation undershirts, and a simple pullover sweater were the garments of the time, and Kara was wearing the same thing herself.  Not a word was said as he ushered her into the room with a grand gesture.

Unlike the last time she had been here, the bed was tightly made, the desk neatly arranged, and he'd pushed two chairs over by the single table in the room.  It was almost as though he were reading her mind.  "Just to get this out of the way," she told him with a pointed glare.  "Happy birthday.  And don't argue with me; just say thank you so we can get on with this."

He laughed slightly, the sound relaxed and warm.  Kara thought it was damned refreshing to hear him laughing about anything and she smiled back at him.

"Thank you," he echoed dutifully.  Again, the commander was taking orders from his lieutenant.  She wondered if he even noticed.

"You're welcome," she told him as she plopped the large covered basked down on the table.  "Now, let's get into this."

She dug around in the basket for a moment, finally finding the plates she had placed near the bottom.  Dumb planning, she decided.  She had loaded things in reverse order, packing as she remembered them, so this might be a mess.  She hoped he didn't notice.  She placed a plate before each of them, and then silverware – or what passed for it – as well.  The ceramic mugs took a little more arranging, as they were heavy, and also near the bottom of the basket.

"Can I help?" he asked, and at least his voice sounded amused rather than impatient.

"Yeah," she said absently, digging to the opposite side of the basket.  "You can start this."  With an almost reverent gesture, she handed him a small bag.  He opened it, took a sniff, and his smile reached from ear to ear. 

"Is it real?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah, and you don't want to know what I went through to find it.  Real coffee is almost as scarce as ambrosia, which I didn't manage, by the way.  Sorry.  I figured you'd prefer the coffee anyway.  I have a friend on the hydroponics barge, and one of the med-techs used a mortar and pestle to grind it this morning.  There should be enough for a couple of pots."

He shook his head at her ingenuity.  "Is there anything you can't manage on this ship?" he asked.

She flashed a grin at that.  "I learned from the best," she reminded him.  "You know everything that goes on around here, and you can get pretty much what you want.  I don't know why you don't keep a coffee stash all the time.  Hydro would do it for you; all you'd have to do is ask."

"I can't ask," he said gently as he walked over to his coffee pot and pushed the synthetic substitute out of the way.  It was a similar bean to the coffee, but just different enough to make the taste… wrong.  Not bad, he had insisted to her during the first year of the war, just wrong.

She watched long enough to be sure he was indeed making the coffee, and then went back to digging in the basket.  Her gift was near the top, so she took that out and with nervous fingers she placed it to the side.  He would laugh, she was sure.  But hey, a good laugh might be what he needed.  She pulled out sandwiches that were made with real meat rather than protein substitute – those had cost her one of her small undershirts, a rarity in this military of men and their muscles – but it had been worth it.  She'd nibbled a corner of one slice of the meat, and sure enough it was the real deal.  It had been all she could manage not to eat her sandwich right then and there.  Next came some fresh soup, complete with vegetables and a savory broth.  Again, she was indebted to hydroponics for the treat.  The look on Bill's face as he returned to the table, taking a long sniff of the soup as she removed the lids from the bowls as he did so, was enough to make the sacrifices worth it.  He would eat tonight, she knew.  Probably for the first time in a while.

He'd lost a lot of weight since the war had begun.  All of them had lost a little – and some had needed to do so – but others had dropped dangerously due to the unappetizing food and demanding schedules.  The commander had been one who had needed to drop a few pounds, but Kara had been worried when the initial loss hadn't leveled out with the rest of them.  He didn't look sick – not exactly – but he wasn't nearly as heavy as she'd always known him to be.  It worried her.  Both of the Adamas worried her, but that was another issue entirely.

"Lords, that smells real," he murmured.

"Every bite.  Meat sandwiches – didn't ask what kind, because we probably don't want to know, but it's real – and vegetable soup.  I found some old crackers, too.  They're still sealed, so they may not be too bad.  Oh, and dessert. I have…" she dug around a bit more in the basket.  "Cake, fruit, and some fake topping stuff.  I tried for whipped cream, but that was out of even my considerable influence."

He laughed again.  "You went all out," he observed.  "Thank you.  Truly."

"It's not a problem," she told him with a small blush.  "Lords, with all you do for us, one meal is the least I can pay back.  "You can thank me by eating it rather than pushing it around your plate."

He turned his back on her long enough to retrieve the prepared coffee and fill their mugs, then he did just that, savoring every bite if his expression was any indication. Kara enjoyed her own smaller portions, but she liked watching him more.  He looked relaxed for the first time in ages, and for just a moment the mantle of command had slipped enough to reveal a tired, lonely man who could enjoy something as simple as soup and sandwiches, and a thrown together dessert.

No one in the fleet would have minded him asking for favors.  He was just this side of a Lord to most of them, having saved what was left of humanity and led them from ruin into hope.  She knew that his slightest whim would be their honor, but he seemed so damned afraid to take advantage of that.  He didn't even ask for favors normally extended to command crew, and the only reason he kept his office and quarters was because he needed it for meetings and he'd once told her that his crew needed to know where he was caged.  At the time she hadn't understood, but in time she'd realized that he just wanted to give them time not to be soldiers.  He didn't want to hover.  She thought it must be a horribly lonely existance.

When they had finished eating, and Kara had packed most of the utensils and both of the plates away into the basket, she pushed the small gift nervously towards him.  "It isn't much," she apologized.  "But Zak always told me that a gift from the heart was the best kind."

Bill smiled as he carefully removed the paper.  The gift was just a book – a simple collection of Caprican poetry.  Opening the front, he read the inscription.

_For Kara,_

_Because you're softer than you think,_

_And everyone needs to be reminded of that._

_Love you,_

_Zak._

"I can't take this," Bill whispered, his eyes suspiciously bright.

"I have it memorized," she explained.  "I don't need it anymore.  I think he'd want you to have it."

Bill sniffed, then began to page through the book, smiling as he saw some of the poems and his expression softening when he saw others.  Kara became more nervous as he reached the end of the book, where what had once been blank pages were now filled with her own substandard scrawl. 

"I'm not a poet," she told him hastily, hating the blush that had crept from her chest to forehead.  "But I write stuff down sometimes.  I thought… well, most people would just think it's stupid, but I thought you might understand."

Bill read the first of the hand-written pages aloud.

_Darkness encloses me, claustrophobic, as I wait._

_Impatience edges in on me, but I know the reward will be great._

_Finally, a hand thrusts me through the void, and I am._

_With stars and sky, freedom beyond all measure, I am._

_And nothing else matters._

"A Viper launch," he said softly. 

She nodded with no small measure of relief.  She had never shown the words to anyone – not even Zak – but then no one had ever made her want to share that one part of herself that she kept apart.  She didn't just fly a Viper; she was a Viper pilot.  It defined her.  It was all she was, and some days all she wanted to be.

_Not woman, not daughter, not fiancée._

_I fly because it is a choice; or is it?_

_Who would I be without the freedom of flight?_

_What could be worth the sacrifice of losing my wings?_

_I have lost the other half of my soul, and yet have lived;_

_Could I lose my wings and do the same?_

_And what does it mean, I wonder,_

_That my wings are more a part of me than my soul?_

"Kara, this is… incredible," he told her

She gave a shrug.  "Sometimes, especially on long flights, my mind just seems to drift.  When I get keyed up I write stuff," she said softly.  "It kind of…. gets it out of my head.  I guess that sounds stupid.  I was going to tear it out, but I hated to tear up the book…"

"No," he said swiftly, placing a hand on her arm and looking up into her eyes.  His glasses were off and for a moment – just a moment – it was like looking at Zak.  Eyes warm, and brown, and deeper than she had ever thought possible. Memory sparked, and then receded as she remembered where she was and who she was with.  "This is the best part," he was telling her.  "And you're right that most people wouldn't understand.  But by the Lords, I do; every word."

She gave another careful shrug, afraid that his praise would cause the tears she'd held at bay when she'd looked into Zak's eyes to flow.  She couldn't stand that.  This man had seen her through enough grief and sorrow; he didn't deserve more on his special day.  "Okay, so we have coffee, present, dinner's done, and that leaves one thing."

"What's that?" he asked with a smile and the air of a child at holiday.  She grinned at the enthusiasm he was finally showing.

"Music," she told him with a wink.  She tugged the small player from the bottom of the basket – one of the few to survive the war, and hers only because she'd had it in her locker when the world had ended.  Recorded on it were over two thousand songs, but she was only looking for one.  She dialed through the choices until she found what she wanted, clicked the button for external speakers, and a gentle melody filled the room.  His smile filled it as well, which brought on hers.

"Evie Tompson," he said softly.  "Lords, how long has it been…?"

"My tastes have always been rather eclectic.  Zak programmed that for me years ago.  I thought you might like it."

"You're too young for this generation of music," he told her with a mock glare.

"Betty liked it, so I got used to it," she admitted.  "That and a few others.  I don't like all the old stuff, but a few songs stuck with me.  This one did, and the next.  I think I have several of hers on there; I never have time to listen to it anymore."

Sure enough, the next song was beginning, it's gentle melody and haunting alto voice filling his room.  Bill looked at her for a moment, then cocked his head sideways as he asked, "A favor?"

Her mind flashed back to previous thoughts that he never asked anything of anyone which wasn't directly in the line of duty.  "What?"

"Dance with me," he requested.  "This was… Iilya loved this song."

Kara gave a small soft smile of her own as she stood next to him.  Bills arms went around her, and she rested her head against his shoulder and her hands on his waist.  They swayed like that through the length of the song, and then through the next which was just as slow and by the same artist.  When that one ended, the player was silent, having reached the end of the playlist.

But Bill didn't release her; not at first.  He just held on.  She could tell from the hitch in his breathing that he was affected by the music, and it occurred to her that while he had been there for her when she had grieved the loss of Zak, no one had done the same when he had lost his wife.  Enormous waves of guilt washed over her as she released his arms and wrapped her arms around his body, just holding on.  He was so strong for all of them; he needed someone to be strong for him once in a while.  Yes, Iilya's death had been mixed in with the trillions of others on that day, but it was no less real because of it.  And back then, no one had been able to help one another because they were so far down themselves.  She wondered if he'd ever cried for his wife, if he'd ever had regrets…. If he still missed her the way she missed Zak.

She wasn't sure how long they stood there; maybe minutes or maybe hours.  Finally though, he sniffled once and stepped back slightly.  His eyes were shiny, but he wasn't crying.  At least not now.  A few tears had already fallen and dried, leaving salty white trails against dark skin..

"Thank you," he whispered.

She couldn't think of a thing to say to that, so she just gave him a gentle squeeze.  He leaned forward and rested his lips against her forehead, giving a gentle kiss that was simple thanks, partly for the birthday party, but more likely for what had come after.

Neither of them heard the hatch open, but both jumped apart as it swung rudely open and Lee Adama stepped inside.  "What the hell?" he yelled.  Then, seeming to realize what he'd done, he grabbed the hatch and slammed it back into the closed position behind him, standing before it with a glare of absolute betrayal on his face.

Kara closed her eyes in resignation, resting her head against Bill's chest for just a moment, drawing strength.  It seemed for everything good that happened, something bad had to follow.  The dinner had been good, and the dance had been better.  She could only imagine the hell they were both going to pay to make up for it.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 

Lee Adama just stood and stared.  What in the hell he was looking at – or for – he wasn't sure of.  But something about the picture before him just wasn't right, and damn-it he wanted answers.

His father still had arms wrapped around Kara, who was tucked in tight, as though she belonged there.  Her arms were pretty snug as well and her forehead was resting against his chest.  Before that, he was half-sure his father had been kissing her. _Kissing_ her!  Kara!

He wanted answers, and he wanted them now, and if it even occurred to him that perhaps he should have knocked at the hatch to ,his father's quarters, or that both of the people before him were legally of age, he didn't let the thoughts penetrate his fury.

His father leaned slightly forward, whispered something in Kara's ear, and then gave her a visible squeeze before they released one another.  Lee just tried to keep his breathing even.  Given what he'd just walked in on – at least, what he thought he'd walked in on – he'd be lucky if he didn't have a frakking stroke.

"Good evening," his father said, his tones forced and clearly irritated.  What?  What in hell did he have to be irritated about, aside from an interrupted liaison that was… disgusting.

"Doesn't look so good from here," Lee told him with a glare at Kara, who was now putting a few items back into a basket that sat on the table.  Cozy.  Lee had gone out of his way to put an end to the rumors, and then he'd walked right into the middle of one.  Shit, he'd even gone to Kara with this.  She must be ready to laugh her ass off.

"If you're going to rely on sarcasm, please wait until Kara's gone," his father requested. 

"If she can dish it out, then she can take it," Lee replied.  He had the pleasure of watching Kara's hands tighten on the handle of the basket, her face a practiced mask of Caprican marble.  She looked liked she wanted to say something, but then her eyes went up to his father's – and something went on there, some kind of silent communication that baffled Lee – and she gave a nod. 

"Good night," she told them both as she took her basket to the door.

"Wait a minute," Lee cried out as one of the primary targets for his anger prepared to walk out of the room.  "You started this, and by the Lords you'll finish it!"

He watched her take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and saw something he'd never really seen before: Kara trying like hell to control her anger.  Because that's what was in her eyes.  Anger.  Absolute, furious, mindless anger.  Whether at him, at getting interrupted, or whatever else was going on in her mind, Kara was definitely angry.  And his present state, Lee wasn't ready to let her off the hook.

"I promised your dad I wouldn't let you set me off; he doesn't want me losing my flight status over this.  But I swear, Lee Adama, that if you don't drop it I'm going to hit you so hard that you don't fly for a month."  Her words were soft – deadly soft – and for some reason he believed her.  Maybe it was that control.  She didn't normally bother with it when he was around.

A small voice in his head told him that he should let her go.  He should drop the conversation, let her walk out of there, and then after calming a bit go back to his own room.  Unfortunately that small voice was all but lost in the roar of rage that was filling him.  "The really hysterical part is that I defended you," he said in outrage.  "I told people that the rumors were crap.  Hell, I even came to you with them, and you put on this whole surprised act for me."

"The rumors aren't true, Lee," she said softly.  "I'm not sleeping with your father; I'm having dinner with him."

"Now you eat standing up in a clinch?" Lee asked with raised eyebrows.

"That was… something else," she admitted. 

"No shit," he said, his voice coming down in pitch to match hers, regardless of the continuation of his anger.  "Just what in hell are you doing?  Working your way through the Adamas one at a time?"

He never saw the fist coming.  Maybe it was because he was looking at Kara, and maybe it was that his father was still faster on his feet than any man had a right to be.  But he felt the impact, the spread of pain from the right side of his face to the back of his head and beyond.  His head hit the door, thankfully closed or he would have been in the hallway from the force.  As it was, he was still standing, and he was more than ready to take on his father.  The betrayal was biting deep, and a physical outlet for the emotions would be welcome.  But before he could martial any defense for himself, Kara had placed herself between him and his father, and by the Lords he couldn't bring himself to hit a woman in the back.

"Stop," she shouted.  "This is enough.  He doesn't understand.  Fine.  Hitting him won't make him understand."

"I will not stand here and let him…"

"Say what anyone else would under the same circumstances," she suggested with resignation.  "He's your son, Bill.  He deserves an explanation, not an attack.  And yes, I'm as pissed off at him right now as you are, but as much as I'd love to hit him, I won't be a wedge between the two of you again.  I've had enough of that."

Lee watched as some of the anger left his eyes, focused now on Kara.  It made Lee even angrier, but he had the feeling that if he took a step towards his father Kara just might lay him out.  He didn't have any illusions about beating her in a fight.

"Why did you come by, Lee?" she asked, and most of the fury was gone from her tone.  Where it had bled off to, he had no idea.  Perhaps he had siphoned it away, because he was getting madder by the moment. 

"Like you care," he muttered.

"Stop acting like a child and just answer the question," his father snapped.

"Or what?  You'll hit me again?"

"I'd smack you for speaking to any woman that way," the eldest Adama clarified.  "But no, I don't have any immediate plans to hit you."

Kara tossed her bag over by the door, wincing at the crunch of something breaking as she did so, and then walked back into the room and took the largest of the seats by the table.  "Sit down, both of you," she said.  "Great Lords, I've become a negotiator.  The world is ending."

Lee tried not to feel the humor, but it was there.  He had to look stupid still leaning against the wall, his face likely wearing the same stunned expression that it had since he'd felt fist connect with cheek.  Shit, he was going to have a shiner.  One more story to explain.  It was only the second time in his life that his father had hit him, and the first had been as well deserved as this.  Still, he didn't have to like the feeling.

His father moved around the table and nudged Kara over on the wide seat, taking up a defensive position between the pilots.  Lee couldn't blame him.  He wanted to hit something himself, and the fact that Kara hadn't already done so was a miracle in and of itself.  Lee took the remaining seat, smaller than the one Kara and his father shared.  They were close, but not touching.  What the frak was going on?

"I came because it was your birthday," Lee muttered, finally answering the question Kara had asked moments before but directing the answer to his father.  He rubbed his hands over his aching face.  Lords, that had hurt.  "You know, family duty and all."

His father shook his head, and a small smile crept to his face as he looked at the woman between them.  "So did Kara," he said simply.  "She brought dinner, and then we danced.  That was all.  It was one of your mother's favorite songs, and I missed her.  There was nothing more suggestive than that going on."

"You were kissing her," Lee argued, but the certainty was leaving his voice and he was floundering as the bottom fell from beneath what he thought was a solid offensive.  He really didn't know what was going on.  He wasn't sure he wanted to.  He sounded like a sullen little boy, even to himself.  Why did he always feel like a child in this one man's presence?

"On the forehead," Kara reminded him.  "Probably as a thank-you for the dinner."

"And the dance," his father clarified.  "It's been a long time since I've held a beautiful woman.  It was nice.  It deserved a gesture of thanks for her putting up with an old man."

"You aren't old," Kara argued, elbowing the eldest Adama in the ribs.  And then it was back, that look between them, that understanding that belied everything they were telling him.  They weren't acting like friends, or even family.  Or were they?  Hell, it had been so long since he'd felt that he had either one that Lee just didn't know.

"I'm not young," William Adama sighed.  "And I'm sorry, Lee.  Violence isn't the answer to anything, regardless of the provocation, at least not within families.  I resented the insinuations, and I will not tolerate your insulting those who don't deserve it.  Are we clear?"

"Yes, Sir," Lee muttered, feeling once more like the six year old who had knocked down the little neighbor girl because she'd taken his ball and wouldn't give it back.

"Okay," his father acknowledged on a released breath.  "First and foremost, there is nothing going on between Kara and myself except for friendship.  She was insubordinate enough to refuse to acknowledge that any birthday celebration should be ignored, and that's the end of it.  It was a beautiful gesture, from a beautiful woman."

Lee shook his head.  "That's the second time you've called her that," he commented.  "And I'm supposed to believe there's nothing going on?"

"Lee…" Kara began, but she didn't go anywhere with the thought.

"I say it because it's true, and because she doesn't hear it often.  I've been in squadron quarters for enough years to know what is said there, and as much as she pretends otherwise, Kara is still a woman."  He winked at the woman in question.  "Right?"

"Depends on who you ask," she said with a grin.

Lee felt some of the tension in the room dissipate.  The reminders that rumors were simply fabrications had been just what he needed to bring him back to reality.  "I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions," he finally said.  "Between what I'd been hearing and what I saw…"

"You assumed the worst," Adama said with a sigh and a rub to his face that was very characteristic of his son.  Or did it go the other way; did Lee act like his father?  The thought didn't bring comfort.

"Lee, I'm your best friend," Kara said softly, reaching for one of his hands.  "If I were in any kind of a relationship with anyone, don't you think that you'd be the first to know?"

He hadn't thought of that.  He'd been so busy seeing his father with another woman that it had slipped his mind for a moment that the woman in question was a friend; not just a pilot, but a friend.  And she was one whom he had just insulted royally.  "What I just said," he began.

She didn't let him finish.  "You paid for," Kara said with a smile.  "And I couldn't have done it better myself.  You really need to get some ice on it."

"I'll live," he grudgingly acknowledged.  "But I have to ask.  I'm not accusing," he added quickly, because he wasn't.  His anger had dissolved, leaving only the exhaustion that followed the adrenaline rush.  "You have to agree that it looks… suspicious.  Your having dinner together in the mess hall, and now in his quarters."  He turned his glance to his father.  "You do realize that people are going to talk.  Unless you plan on punching half the fighters in fleet, you may want to be a little more… hell, I don't know.  Discreet isn't right because there's nothing going on.  But, I'm not the only one who's going to think that there is.  Especially with the way you compliment her," he added with a pointed glance at his father.

Kara had blushed at the last.  "Isn't she beautiful?" his father asked simply, honest curiosity on his face.

"Well…"  Lee thought about it.  Sure, Kara was pretty.  She always had been.  No, she wasn't all tall and curvy, but it was just as well.  She wouldn't be able to handle a Viper if she'd been a centerfold.  She needed the upper body strength that she'd built, and if the workouts assuring her fitness also kept her body looking pretty damned good, then that was just a bonus.  Yeah, she was nice enough to look at – green eyes and a wide smile, and a face that could tell you what she was thinking before she even knew – but it wasn't something you just… said.  Or was it?

"Thanks," Kara said dryly.

Lee shook his head quickly, flipping his hand over in hers to squeeze the hand that had been holding his.  "I didn't mean you're not," he said, wondering if he was going to get punched again.  "I just don't think about you that way."

"I may not have the eyesight to fly," his father told Kara with a wink – and another of those shared looks that made Lee so nervous.  "But I can recognize beauty.  If there's one thing I learned from your mother, Lee, it's that you can't take people for granted.  If someone is lovely, they need to hear it.  Often.  If someone is out of line, you need to tell them immediately.  And if someone is special to you, then the consequences really aren't all that significant.  The crew can say what they like; I've had too few friends in recent years.  I won't give up those that I have."

As Kara reached out with her free hand to give his father's arm a squeeze, Lee felt a wash of guilt.  How many friends did his father really have?  There was Tigh, just about the only person besides himself who would tell him what he really thought.  Gaeta did as he was told, as did most of the crew.  Kelly had the occasional meal with his dad, but Lee couldn't remember hearing the man refer to him as anything except "Sir."  Kara called his father by his first name, she shared meals and holidays with him, wasn't that what friends did?  And why in hell did they have to justify that, to him or to anyone.

Lee supposed that he hadn't noticed because he had so few real friends himself.  He had Kara, of course, assuming he hadn't messed that up tonight.  He had a couple of contemporaries in other areas of service – medical and command – but they didn't really get together except for necessary functions.  Mostly, he relied on Kara's listening ear and often amazing advice.  She might not think before she acted most of the time, but when she did think the outcome was pretty accurate.  And she thought his dad needed someone.

"You're right," Lee said softly.  Then, looking at Kara pointedly, he added, "on all counts.  We don't live in a world where we can just assume that others know what we're thinking."

Lee reached up and rubbed a hand over his face.  He was gritty from work, having come here directly from shift, and he needed a shave.  He was also tired, and mentally exhausted.  The drop from the adrenaline rush didn't help matters any.

"You look tired," his father said in an almost gentle voice, as though moments before he hadn't been yelling, lecturing, and hitting his son.  Lee had had it coming, but that didn't take the sting from his cheek.

"Long shift," Lee admitted.  "I just wanted to drop something by before I went to bed.  You were off the ship before shift started, and I didn't get much of a break.  Half my fleet is torn down.  Lords, if we have a Cylon attack now we're sitting ducks."

"We didn't have a choice," Adama told him.  "With the flaw Tyrol found in the fuel conversion system, it was a matter of time before we lost every one of the Mark II Vipers.  They weren't designed to run on Tylium, at least not this high a concentration.  We're damned lucky only one exploded before we found the flaw."

"I know," Lee admitted.  "I just hate knowing we're… vulnerable."

"How long until I'm back in the air?" Kara asked.

"We'll have them done by the end of the week.  "They're having to redesign as they go.  We don't have the parts for the fusion systems that the VII's have, so we're going from scratch.  If Tyrol wasn't so damned creative, we couldn't manage it at all."

"He is a wonder," Kara said as she gave Lee's hand a squeeze before releasing it.  It gave him a bit of comfort that she did the same thing to his father's at the same time.  "But he's a pain in the ass if you mess with his birds.  If I'm gonna be on shift tomorrow, then I need to get to sleep.

"Thank you for the day," William said as he stood.  Lee did the same; manners identical to his father's, if a little old fashioned.  "It was pretty incredible.  I'll remember it for a long time."

"Happy birthday, Bill," she replied, kissing him on the cheek and giving him a quick hug before heading to the door and grabbing her bag.  When she picked it up and heard the clinking inside, she winced.  "Next time I'll bring metal cups," she said with a wink.  Then with a glance at Lee she added, "and a chaperone."

He shook his head with a smile, then walked over to the door.  Quietly, he told her, "Thanks for taking care of him."

She shook her head.  "It was mutual, Lee.  Everyone needs a friend.  I think I needed to do something for him just as much as he needed it done."  She gave a lopsided grin.  "That doesn't make a bit of sense."

"It does," he argued.  "And… I'm sorry.  Still.  Again.  You know I'm an asshole some days."

"Yeah, you are," she agreed with a smile.  "But then, so am I.  Don't keep him up too late."

"I won't."  Then, as she turned and opened the hatch, he stopped her with a hand to her arm.  "Kara?"

"Hmm?" she asked, turning back.

He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.  "You are beautiful," he told her softly.  "Inside and out."

Kara blushed.  Lee had to smile as he watched color creep up from her chest to her forehead, hiding the miscellaneous freckles that he normally could see.  If this was the response his father normally got, then it was no wonder that the older man complimented her so frequently.  It was fun.

As she left the room, Lee closed the door and turned to see his father over at the coffee pot.

"Want some?" his dad called.  "It's the real thing; one of my presents from Kara."

"Real coffee?" Lee asked as his eyebrows moved upwards.  He couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a treat.  "She went all out, didn't she?"

"She did," Adama said thoughtfully.  "Which is odd, now that I think of it.  She hates holidays.  She avoids them like a plague, but she insisted on this."

"I didn't get quite that fancy," Lee admitted.  "But I do have something for you."

"That's not necessary," his father began.

Lee cut him off.  "Under the circumstances, I'd say it is.  I didn't have a lot with me when I wound up here; you know that.  "I tend to horde what I do have.  But I wanted… I thought you might like this."

Lee extended his hand, the gift hidden carefully inside.  He'd been keeping it in his pocket during the near-fight and subsequent discussion.  If it hadn't been for all the talk about what Kara had done, he likely would have forgotten about it.

William Adama put his hand out, and his eyes widened slightly as he felt the warm metal slide from his son's hand into his own.  The older man looked from the long chain to the gold tag attached to it.  He didn't say a word.

"I used to carry them for luck," he said softly.  "Maybe I'm just dumb about that kind of thing.  Anyway, I ran across them in some things I was going through.  I kept one for Kara, too.  I thought she might… well, anyway, happy birthday.

"Thank you," he said as he looked at the dogtag inscribed with the name Zak Adama and the miscellaneous information that was requisite for the tags.  His father's words seemed genuine.

"You mentioned coffee?"  Lee asked hopefully.

His father's grin let him know that he wasn't out of line.  "Let me get it. 

The two of them were seated at the table several moments later, drinking coffee and loving it, neither saying a word.  Lee couldn't remember the last time he and his father had done this: just sat.  There was nothing pressing to call their attention from the moment, and regardless of the altercation moments before there was little stress between them.  There wasn't much in this life that coffee couldn't fix.

"I'm sorry," his father said softly.

Lee reached up to touch the tender skin around his eye, which had swollen more than the cheek itself and was hurting more.  Kara had been right that he should have gotten some ice. 

"Not just for that," his father added.  "For… not explaining.  I guess I wanted to keep her for myself just a little longer."

"Her?  Kara?"  Lee was confused.

The half-shrug didn't tell him much, but his averted eyes did.  William Adama had never been one to hedge, so he wasn't all that good at it.  "She's a special woman," he said softly.  "And if you want to know the truth, if I were thirty years younger, then I might think of her a lot differently."

Lee smiled.  "I can see where you'd be… attracted.  She does have an energy about her.  Flying with her is like skirting an abyss.  You just never know when she'll take you over it, and into something you're just not ready for."

"You worked with her at the academy?" his father asked.

Lee frowned.  His father knew the answer to that.  "We were friends there, too.  We taught opposite one another, though.  She taught actual flight and I taught theory."

"Has she always…"

"What?"

His father shrugged again.  "Was she always this intense, or did it come from losing Zak.  I didn't know her well before, but since I've spent time with her I see such a need to… I can't explain it.  The only humor I usually see in her is pure sarcasm, and she has a guard that she never really lets down."

"She's always protected her feelings," Lee admitted.  "Like I said, we were friends, but little more until she started dating Zak.  At first I was on them about it.  I mean, she was older than he was, and there was the whole issue of fraternizing with the students.  But she wasn't teaching any of his classes directly, so it wasn't really a problem.  At least, I didn't think it would be."

"Did she enjoy teaching?"

Lee shrugged.  "She seemed to," he said, taking another sip of the coffee and savoring it for a moment.  "She doesn't do much half-way.  She was pretty much a hard-ass though; didn't take any shit from the students.  A lot of the students were pure hell to reason with, a few of the instructors too if it came to that.  A number off them pushed her for dates.  That much got better after she and Zak linked up.  She didn't seem to trust the men very much.  I never made a pass, so I think she tolerated me more than most.  Well, that and Zak made her hang around with me.  But yeah, I think she liked to teach.  She hated the shit some of the brats put her through, but the teaching itself was fine."

"I just wondered," his father said thoughtfully.  "She doesn't seem to enjoy very much lately.  I wondered if we might initiate a flying program to get some of the weaker pilots up to snuff.  Do you think she'd be interested in that?"

"You'd have to ask her," he said with a shrug.

"I was just wondering."

Lee was quiet a while longer, enjoying the coffee and the undemanding presence of his father.  He rarely felt comfortable with his dad.  For two years he had been beyond horrible, and the fact that his actions had been based on misunderstanding didn't take away the fact that even if he'd been right, he wouldn't have been justified.  A part of him had always wondered if his anger towards his father had been one of the factors in his mom's decision to leave.  Lords, he hoped not.  But at the time it would have seemed a reasonable concession.  He wouldn't have cared; not at all. 

Lee and Zak had been a set growing up.  Although they had been a few years apart, they had shared many of the same interests and abilities.  Both had loved sports, although Zak had played for fun whereas Lee had played to win, and both had made good grades.  Lee had studied like crazy, but the learning came easily for Zak.  It had been the same with girls.  Zak had found women to be yet another toy to play with, whereas Lee got so caught up in the "respect" issue that he found it difficult even to ask a girl on a date.  As a result, once at the Academy Zak had been the Adama with the friends, and Lee had been the Adama with the workload.  It hadn't had a thing to do with their actual responsibilities, but rather their outlook.

With their parents, they faced the same differing views.  If Zak wanted a hug, or wanted to play, he merely crawled up on Mom or Dad's lap and asked.  Lee generally hovered in the background, unnoticed until the game was underway and Zak invited him in. 

There were certain people in life that others seemed to gravitate towards, and Zak had been one of those.  At his funeral, there had been standing room only.  Lee in his more bitter moments had wondered if anyone would have shown up to his.  He could almost picture his parents and Kara sitting there in an empty church.  There was an old analogy between military assignments and placing one's finger in water… ripples were made going in and coming out, but there was no great change in contents, and afterwards little was left to show the finger's presence.  Lee felt that way about his life.  He had thought the importance of being CAG would alleviate his feelings of inadequacy, but if anything the dislike from his pilots had made it worse.  Now he was apart not only by personality but also by position.  You couldn't befriend those you worked with; it didn't work.  And yet hadn't he done that with Kara?  Hadn't his father?

"Those thoughts don't look… happy," his father commented.

Startled from his self-exploration, Lee startled.  "They weren't," he admitted.  Then, he decided that if they had something in common, they could at least benefit from it.  "Dad, I know that you can't really socialize with those you command, but how do you… sometimes it seems…"

"Damned lonely?" his father asked.

"Yeah," Lee admitted.

"You have a lot of options," Adama said thoughtfully.  "There are a dozen other Captains on the ship; you could socialize with any of them.  Then there are those subordinates who are not in your chain of command, such as the medical or technical departments.  Or you can just pitch the rules and take your friends where you find them and to hell with it.  I prefer the latter approach, honestly."

"You don't have a lot of options," Lee sympathized.  "I guess I hadn't thought about it.  I've spent so much time… just working, that I didn't think a lot about friendship.  I didn't think about a lot of things."

"At first all any of us thought about was surviving," his father admitted, setting down his now empty cup.  "But there's more to life.  I heard you went on a date not long ago."

"Um… yeah."

"I take it that it didn't go well?"

Lee gave a sheepish grin.  "She was a little… grabby.  Maybe it's old fashioned, but I don't think jumping into bed on the first date is a bright move, end of the world or not."

William Adama grinned.  "So your mother's influence had some effect after all," he mused.  "You're right, though.  Sex for the sake of sex is pretty meaningless.  You need the emotion that goes with it, the closeness.  I mean, physically it doesn't matter.  But if you're going that direction, you can make things a lot less complicated by taking a couple of extra minutes in the shower and managing the situation yourself."

"Is that what you do?" Lee asked, wondering if his father would answer; wondering if he should have even asked, regardless of the opening.  Some things you just didn't talk to your parents about, but Lee didn't really have anyone else who understood.

"When necessary," Adama said with a ruddy blush.  "As you get… older, it's not something that's an issue all that often.  Hate to tell you that; I'm sure it's not what you want to hear."

"What, that sex drive diminishes with age?" Lee asked.  "That's not the mystery of the decade."

 The older let go with a laugh that sounded rusty and unused.  "Lords, when I was your age, though.  Let's just say I wasn't discriminating until I met your mother and leave it at that."

"Sounds like Zak," Lee mused, then clarified.  "He dated right, left, and sideways up until he met Kara.  Then it was just the two of them; it was a love you could touch.  He was different when he was around her.  Better, I guess.  More focused.  And the look on his face… it was as though he was walking on the sun."

"That's rare," Adama agreed.  "And worth waiting for.  Is that what you're worried about?  Not finding that kind of love?"

"Well, with the world as it is, the options aren't limitless.  Sometimes it concerns me.  I mean, I've seen marriages of duty and dedication," he said, lowering his eyes so he didn't have to look at his father.  His parents' marriage had seemed little more than that.  "I want more than that.  I want what Zak had.  If he had it; Lords, it was so long ago, I don't know how much was real and how much I've made up."

"It was real," William said softly.  "A love you could touch.  That's exactly what it was.  I was scared to death when he called and said he was engaged, and when I got her name I was petrified.  Kara was pretty well known, even outside the academy.  She was a hotshot and a daredevil, and she wasn't known for following the rules.  But the minute I saw them together, everything changed.  Your mother and I picked them up from the airport, and she looked so nervous.  She held onto his hand for dear life, and even forgot to let go when she went to shake my hand.  Your mother and I thought it was funny, but she was mortified.  You can see every thought she has on that face; I have no clue how she's so damned good at cards – she bluffs like a master.  Anyway, once we'd been introduced we went to wait on luggage, and Zak pulled her aside.  He put his arms around her and… I can't explain it.  It was as though he gave her strength, and she gave it right back.  It was amazing.  Lords, it had been years since Iilya and I had been that way, and it made me miss it so much."

"You… had that with Mom?" Lee asked softly.

William nodded, giving a soft smile.  "At first," he admitted.  "I loved her more than flying.  I even stayed grounded for a year or so, until you were born, but then she told me to go and fly.  She said I was dying without it, and she was right.  Once I was back in the air, the family didn't feel real.  Then when I was on leave, the Service didn't seem real.  It was like being two different people, and I didn't like either one.  Gradually I spent more and more time with the one just to keep my sanity.  I chose to fly, and I'll always wonder if I chose wrong.  I lived to fly, and I enjoy command, but that was never fair to Iilya.  It was worse after Zak was born because then she needed help, and I wasn't there to give it to her."

"When did we stop being a family?" Lee asked, his voice just over a whisper.

"When we stopped trying to be one," Adama answered.  "Love… isn't a feeling.  It's an act of will.  It's not easy, or fun.  Lords, it's work, and worth every moment of it, but that doesn't make it any less difficult.  Somewhere in the fray, we just… stopped trying.  I went back to the service, you and Zak moved away, and your mother needed someone who was willing to work with her, be with her."

"Are you ever sorry?"

His father smiled sadly.  "Every day," he said quietly.  "But mostly, when I look at Kara.  She is so much like your mother, Lee.  Beautiful yes, but so much more.  She cares so much, and she does her best to hide it.  Tonight she danced with me, nothing more.  But Lee, do you know how long it's been since I just held someone?  Just… stood, and swayed, and enjoyed the warmth of a woman in my arms.  Kara and I aren't involved, and we wouldn't be even if it weren't for the age issue.  I could never marry another when I have this ship to command.  But she makes me wish… maybe that I didn't feel this way.  It's hard to explain."

"She makes you want your family back," Lee suggested.

"Most assuredly that."

Lee looked at the brown remnants in his cup.  The coffee was gone.  His eye was throbbing, his body was starting to itch, and he needed to get some sleep.  "It's time to head out," he told his father.  "I have mid-watch tomorrow again, but I can never sleep once they're moving around in quarters."

"You'll get used to it," his father assured him.

"Maybe.  Good night, Dad.  And… happy birthday."

"It was," Adama said softly.  "The first happy one in a long while."

The eldest Adama walked his son to the door, then stood there and waited with him for a moment.  Lee got the feeling they weren't finished.

"Son?" he asked finally.

"Hmm?"

"I never ask this of my pilots, and it's not fair to ask you…"

"What?"

"Kara," he said on a whisper.  "Take care of her," he requested.  "She flies like a demon out of hell, and she can fight her way through a Cylon barrage, but she has no defenses against people.  She says the rumors don't hurt her, but… she's done a hell of a lot for your old man.  And in my position, all I can do is order them to leave her alone.  That would make things worse, not better.  At your level, you can be there for her, keep the rumors within reason.  She's softer than she seems."

"I know," Lee said, looking down.  "I need to apologize to her again."

His father grinned.  "Just looking at your face is apology enough," he said.  "I really am sorry."

"It sounds like we all are," Lee decided.

"A sorry bunch; that's us."

Lee watched his father for a moment more, then leaned forward to put an arm awkwardly around his father's shoulders.  Moments later, the hug was returned with a force that was just shy of painful.  They held one another for a long time, then Adama released his son and turned away, clearing his throat before speaking.  "Have a good night."

"You too, Dad," Lee told him, clearing his throat quietly, hoping his father didn't notice. 

Then Lee headed towards quarters.  As much as he wanted a shower – and clean clothes, and to put some ice on his face – what he needed more was to find Kara and apologize for what he'd said, what he'd thought, and so much more.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 

William Adama had known that word traveled fast on a battlestar, but he was unaware of just how quickly lies could fly until he walked into CIC the next afternoon to begin his shift.  Every eye seemed to be on him as he glanced at Lieutenant Gaeta to receive his reports.  Unlike the time before the war, there was no standard stack of routine communications.  Instead, he got reports on patrols, fleet necessities or emergencies from the prior shifts, and thankfully some assurance that there was no indication of Cylon presence in the area.

But this morning, the Lieutenant didn't meet his eyes as he passed the reports.  Nor did he say a word.  From the corner of his eyes, William could see the men and women under his command watching, and yet as soon as he turned his head they were immediately occupied with something else.  As a man who had commanded respect – and well earned at that – for more than a decade by his rank alone, the situation was confusing.

He thought it might be something with Kara.  After all, they had spent a lot of time together the day before, and she might have been seen leaving his quarters at a late hour.  Rumors had flown before, they might be flying again.  But previously the rumors had been a source of amusement to the crew.  He had seen smiles and heard whispers.  Now the atmosphere showed little more than animosity towards him.

"Colonel Tigh," he called out, dismissing Gaeta with a glance. 

"Yes, Sir," Paul answered, his voice quick and sure.

"Command office," he said simply.

While his primary office was a part of his living quarters, this secondary office had been placed in CIC for private meetings during wartime.  In an emergency situation, the commander might be unable to leave CIC and yet need information that could not be common knowledge, as had actually occurred during the initial Cylon attack.  It wasn't a large room, nor was it comfortable, but the blocked off area was relatively soundproof and served its purpose adequately.  If there was to be any yelling, the crew wouldn't hear it.

When he heard the door closing behind him courtesy of his XO, William Adama knew that he had been right.  Something was up.  "Report," he told the Colonel brusquely.

Tigh didn't hedge.  "Your son has a black eye, your lead pilot got in late, and both were seen going into and out of your quarters last night.  Now, rumor has it that the two of them had it out over what you and Thrace have been doing behind closed doors.  From what I hear – and it's damned little because they know we're close – that little soft spot you have for the girl has become common knowledge."  Bill watched his best friend give a shrug.  "From where I stand, it looks pretty fishy."

The Commander sighed and sat himself down in the stiff metal chair by the far wall, all of twelve feet from his second in command had done the same.  "Shit."

Paul took a seat across from him, then looked up to meet his eyes.  Thankfully, William didn't see accusation there.  He saw concern.  He saw curiosity.  Hell, Saul might laugh himself silly if he had known that Kara often looked at him in just the same way.  "What's going on, Bill?" his friend asked.  "I can pretty much filter out the impossible – or at least improbable – but even I see something that isn't adding up."

"Kara didn't hit Lee," William began.  "I did."

"What the hell?"  Under other circumstances, the look on his XO's face would have been hysterical.

"He made some… rude suggestions.  I hit before I thought.  If you want proof, you can still see the bruises on my knuckles," he added bitterly.  "I'm an old man; I don't heal quickly."

Paul shook his head.  "I've seen that boy tear you up one side and rip you down the other," he marveled.  "And you've never lifted a hand to him.  What in hell did he say?"

That was something William Adama would not repeat.  "Enough," he admitted cryptically.  "The matter has been cleared up within the family.  That's all anyone needs to know."

Paul shook his head.  "It's already way beyond that, Bill.  The Commander has been accused of having an affair with his son's girlfriend, a woman half his age.  You walk on water to these people, and I'm not sure there are enough life preservers on this boat to keep you afloat."

"She's just a friend, Saul," William said in frustration, running his hands over his face and fingers through his hair.  "She's someone who will drop the blasted "sir" over a meal, and knows what day my birthday's on.  That doesn't make her a lover; it makes her a friend, or even a daughter.  What is so damned hard to understand about that?"

Paul sat back in his chair.  "Lee's not talking," he added casually.  "Neither is Thrace.  It's making things… complicated.  If there were some suggestion of innocence on your part, you'd think one of them would be running to your defense, or at least minimizing the rumors.  Instead, they aren't often seen in the same room at the same time."

"Is there a problem with them working together?" William asked.  He'd considered that the night before, after Lee had left.  If this put tension between his lead pilot and CAG, then it would be more than visible.  It would be unacceptable.  On the other hand, Lee had seemed okay with the situation when he'd left the room.  Hell, none of this was adding up.

"Not that I've heard," Saul admitted.  "But the crew won't talk around me any more than they do around you.  I heard Dee mention something to Gaeta about some bets that were floating around – who would get into Starbuck's flight suit first, I believe was the wager.  If it makes you feel any better, the odds are in your favor."

"Thanks," William said dryly. 

"You had to know they'd talk," Saul told him.  "Aside from being bored out of their skulls and looking for a reason to gossip, this is the first time you've shown any interest in… well… anything since the war began.  She's the first person you've spoken to outside a public setting, and you've bent the rules for her too many times to count.  They aren't blind, Bill.  And most of them don't know a thing about Zak, or your relationship with her before the war started.  All they see is that their king has chosen his queen."

"It isn't like that," William said in frustration.

"I'm sure it isn't," Paul agreed.  "But it is something.  You spend a lot of time together, and I get the feeling it's more than just reminiscing about old times.  What is it you see in that girl?"

William shook his head.  He'd asked himself the same question a thousand times, and the answers were too numerable to list.  "She makes me smile," he finally said.  "And laugh, and feel human.  When she's around, I'm more than a commander, or an old man, or a Holy Lord.  I'm… a person.  I can say what I want and know she won't hold it against me.  Hell, that's something I can't even get from my own son."

"Go on," Paul said, as though he knew there was more.

And there was.  "She's lovely," William said softly.  "And I suppose she reminds me of Iilya in a lot of ways.  She still has that… fire, I suppose it is.  That energy that living takes away.  She's not a child, but she's not completely jaded either.  She has a maturity that goes way beyond her age.  Lords, if I were younger I might fall in love with her.  But you know me, Saul.  The Galactica is my only priority.  I don't even have a choice anymore."

"It sounds like more than… admiration," Paul commented.  "You've always felt… something for her.  Are you sure you aren't infatuated?"

"I may be old, but I remember the difference," William said with a wink.  "I'm not attracted to her, at least not that way.  But I do enjoy her company, and it's flattering that she seems to enjoy mine."

"Makes sense," Paul said noncommittally.  "At least to me.  I'm not so sure about the crew.  You don't want to get on the com and tell them what you just told me; I'm sure of that."

"So what do we do about it?" William asked almost rhetorically.  "If they've already made up their minds, then how to we change them?  And why in hell do we have to?" he added in a morose tone.  "I'm not the Holy Lord they think I am.  No, I'm not in a relationship now.  But someday I might want more than this command," he said thoughtfully.  "What if I did decide to court a woman, or marry… why should my crew have any say in that?"

"Bill," Paul began, and his words were clearly chosen very carefully.  "You _are_ a Holy Lord to these people.  You aren't human to them.  You aren't… a man.  You have no needs, no weaknesses, and no flaws.  They have to believe that.  If they don't, then there's no way they could follow you into an abyss with any level of trust at all.  No, they won't tolerate your humanity.  They can't afford it.  I know that's not fair to you, but it's how it is.  Hell, it's all they can do to tolerate mine, regardless of what changes I've made in my life.  Think about it, they trust me because you do.  They take my orders because you command it.  You don't even know the hold you have over them.  They don't just trust you; they revere you."

William closed his eyes and let the truth of his XO's words wash over him.  Damn.  He couldn't have it both ways, could he?  He couldn't be both their trusted leader and their human friend.  His son's words came back to him, and his own as well.  Lonely.  Lee could have no idea.  Perhaps it was his only option.  He wished he knew.  "How do I fix this?"

"Ignore it," Tigh said on a sigh.  "It'll blow over.  With any luck at all, some poor fighter pilot will get past that mouth and those fists, and once she's hooked up with someone her own age the rumors will fade.  In the meantime, keep everything public."  Bill's best friend's eyes met his.  "Unless there is something going on," he added, almost as an afterthought.

William closed his eyes.  He would not repeat all he'd just said.  Saul could take it or leave it; at this point he didn't care.  "She should have been my daughter, Saul," he said quietly.  "Some days it feels like she is.  Hell, maybe I'm just used to having two children and I don't know any other way."

"What happened last night?" his XO asked. 

The question was slipped in so neatly, so out of context, that Bill answered without thinking.  "She let me fly," he said on a whispered breath.  He turned, looked at his friend, and let the excitement show.  "The Raptor flight to and from Colonial One; she let me fly."

The grin spread slowly across Tigh's face.  "Hot damn," he said, his tone as wondrous as Bill's had been.  "How does she feel?"

"Like the sims," Adama admitted with a wink.  "Only…"

"Yeah," Saul said.  An understanding passed between them that only men denied what they had once been privileged to do could understand.  William had lost his wings to failing vision; Paul had lost them to one-too-many bar brawls.  William had to wonder if his friend knew just how much like Starbuck he was.  Hell, that was probably why they couldn't get along; they were too similar, even though they'd never admit it.

"Then she found me coffee," he told his friend with a wink.  "And we ate, and danced to music I haven't heard in years."

Saul nodded, but there was a softening to his expression that was probably as close to forgiving Kara Thrace as William thought he could come.  "I guess she knows how to throw a party," he said.  "You want to tell me why you let her do it when you won't let me?"

William looked down, slightly embarrassed.  Paul had threatened him with birthday parties since he'd known him, but had also had the courtesy not to make good on his threats.  "I didn't let her," he said.  "She just did it."

"She doesn't even listen to _you_," Paul said, shaking his head.  "She's worse than my ex."  A look of pain crossed the XO's face; William decided it was best to ignore it.

"She's a good person," Bill said firmly.  "So are you, although I'm one of the only people you let see it.  Did it ever occur to you that Kara might be the same way?  She's not as tough as she looks, whatever your impressions of her, and if you use that against her I'll see to it that you're mopping decks."

Tigh looked uncomfortable, shifting in his seat before he stood and not looking Bill in the eye.  "I know better than to upset a Holy Lord," he muttered.  "I'm going to bed.  The shift is yours."

And Bill laughed, because there really was nothing else he could do.

"How's the eye?"

Lee had just opened the door to the CAG's office to see Kara peeking around a locker at him.  He looked around himself, checked to be sure that they were alone, and then nodded for her to come into his office.  "Hurts like hell," he admitted as he closed the door behind them.  "But not nearly as much as my pride."

"Yeah, well it tends to be the first thing to fry," she admitted.  Instead of taking the seat he gestured to, she hopped up on his desk, scattering a neat stack of reports all over the desk.

"Who could have known he had a hook worse than yours," Lee muttered as he tried to straighten the mess she'd made.  He managed to grab most of the papers, but a few were beneath her butt.  "Up," he ordered.

She shifted to one side, and then to the other, letting him retrieve his work.  If the fit of her flight suit caught his attention – tight material over a perfectly rounded behind – then he didn't dwell on it.  She was a friend.  A sister.  Yeah, right.

With his work finally at a safe distance from his Lead Pilot, he took the seat he'd offered her and looked up to where she sat.  "I tried to find you last night," he said softly.  "I do owe you an apology."

She shook her head at that.  "You gave me one."

He lowered his eyes, unable to meet hers.  "I don't even know why I thought… Hell, I guess it was circumstance combined with fatigue.  I feel like I should be doing penance or something.

She laughed; Lee liked the sound.  Kara didn't laugh often.  That thought struck him out of nowhere, too.  How long had it been since he'd really heard her laugh?  Not just a casual snicker like she was doing now, but a real laugh?  He knew it hadn't been in the last two and a half years, that was for damned sure.  She had laughed at jokes, or in excitement over a good flight, but he hadn't heard the fits of giggles that she had once been known to have.  He hadn't heard that since the last time she and Zak… Lee pulled his mind back to the present as he heard her words.

"It's nothing anyone else wasn't saying," she told him with a shrug.  "I should have told you what I had planned, but I figured that if I involved anyone else he wouldn't let me get away with it."

"And you weren't sure if I'd care," he added softly.

She shrugged at that, and now she was the one averting eye contact.  "The two of you have been known to disagree," she admitted.

"It's getting better," Lee said thoughtfully.  "It's not there yet, but it's better.  We talked some last night, too.  Oh, and thanks for the coffee."

The last had been said with a wink, and he had the pleasure of seeing a righteous indignation pass over her features.  "That was supposed to be mine," she said with a feigned bitterness.  "Cost me three cigars."

Lee smiled at that.  "Thanks for… doing that for him.  He's always hated birthdays, for as long as I can remember.  Even mom didn't try to celebrate them.  I remember when I was a kid asking if he even had one.  She laughed at that, said of course, but wouldn't tell me when.  I actually didn't find out until I was in my teens.  Zak and I snagged his wallet and checked his ID to find out."

"Zak told me about that," she said with a smile.  It didn't reach her eyes.  "He also told me about the grounding the two of you got for it."

"Yeah," Lee said softly.  "I'd tried to block that out.  Anyway, how did you find out?  Zak?"

She nodded.  "He told me that as a… family member, and yet not one of his biological children, I might be able to get away with doing something.  I've managed it a couple of times, but this is the first time he's really… needed it.  Something's weighing him down, Lee.  I don't know what it is, but something…"

"Something more than command," Lee agreed.  He'd seen it as well.  "And likely more than the rumors that are going around, because those started afterwards."

"I'm worried about him," she stated simply.

"We'll work on it," Lee promised.  "But for now, can you just tell me you forgive me for absolute stupidity and illogical assumptions?"  He didn't know why the words mattered; they just did.

She gave another half-smile.  "I forgive you, Lee.  In your place, I guess I would have thought it looked suspicious too.  Besides, you've already paid for it.  That eye is going to take two weeks to go back to normal."

"I've been getting weird looks all morning," Lee admitted, trying not to let her see how much it bothered him.  "I'm not sure what to do about them."

She looked at him a moment in silence.  "You know, everyone assumes I hit you.  I've been asked a dozen times how I avoided the brig.  We're going to have to say something."

"Why not the truth?" he asked with a shrug.

"They wouldn't believe it," she told him.  "Not juicy enough."

Lee laughed.  Sadly, she was probably right.  The crew wanted a scandal; there wasn't one to be had.  So they sat in silence, each thinking, neither speaking.  Answers were not going to be easy to come by.

He wasn't sure how long they sat that way.  Silence with Kara was a comfortable thing, so it didn't wear on him the way it did with other people.  He didn't feel the need to blather on the way he did with some people.  He didn't feel a need to chatter, or make excuses for his silence.  Lee just felt… comfortable.

"Lords, this is the first quiet I've had in forever," she said softly.

Lee glanced up to see Kara's hands braced on the desk behind her and her eyes closed in enjoyment.  He could appreciate the sentiment.  When living with two-thousand of your closest friends – or in this case the Galactica's crew – quiet did indeed become pretty rare.  He'd forgotten that, because he often had the opportunity to hide out in his office when things were eating at him.  Kara had no such escape.  Even in the Viper, regulation stated that passive communication channels had to be left open, so you were forced to listen to CIC comments, flight command, and in between was the constant faint static that the wireless couldn't filter out.

"You know, you can come in here anytime you need to," he offered.  "You're Lead Pilot; you have the right."

She shook her head.  "Your office," she told him.  "Your paperwork."

"I don't mean to do paperwork," he told her as he leaned forward to smack her on the leg, the easiest place for him to reach.  "I mean for the quiet.  Sometimes the joys of having fifty bunkies can get overwhelming.  If you need some quiet, you're welcome to bail."

"Offering me your humble abode," she sighed dramatically, both palms now covering her heart as she batted her eyelashes at him.  Typical Kara; take a nice gesture – or an attempt at one – and turn it into a joke.  She turned most things into a joke, and yet didn't bother to laugh.  That brought Lee up short.

"Take it or leave it," he told her with a shrug.  "I don't care either way."  But he did, and her making light of the offer stung.  In fact, it stung in the same way as her having a birthday celebration with his father and not even telling Lee, much less inviting him.  Weren't they closer than that.  He sure as hell wouldn't have made the offer to anyone else.

"Hey, what did I say?" she asked.

The concern on her face was genuine, but he didn't have the patience for it.  "Forget it," he told her.

"No," she said firmly.  "Something I said made you mad.  What was it?"

"I'm not mad," he denied.

"Yeah, you are," she argued.  "I want to know why."

"I'm not mad," he said again.

"You're mad."

"I'm not mad."

"You're mad!"

"I'm not frakking mad!"

She looked at him a moment, her eyes shooting daggers at him.  "You are now," she said, and each word was clearly enunciated.  She was holding on to her temper by a thread.

He glared.  Damn her.  "No shit," he said after a moment.

"Now tell me why you started out that way?" she asked softly.  Just that quickly, the anger was gone from her voice.  How did she do that?  She was like a bottle of nitro, always in danger of being shaken and blowing up.  But the explosions had been fewer lately, and they hadn't done as much damage.  She was making an effort; he should do the same.

So he shook his head, not wanting to go through it all again, every drop of energy leaving his body.  The woman was exhausting.  "It doesn't matter."

She rolled her eyes, hopped down off his desk, and took a seat on his lap.  He couldn't have been more surprised if she'd kissed him.  She didn't go that far, but she did put her head down on his shoulder for a moment, her arms around his neck, and for some reason putting his own arm around her seemed to be the most natural action in the world.

"It matters," she told him.  "You matter."  The change in her demeanor from fury to gentle concern was disorienting.  He just couldn't command any indignation to combat her moods.

Besides, what in hell could he say to that?  "What's the punch line?" he asked in a tired voice.

"Hmm?"

Pulling back, he looked her in the eye.  "Everything's a joke to you.  I'm just… looking for the humor.  I'm not finding it."

"Maybe this isn't funny," she offered.

"That was the point," he said on a sigh.  "It seems like… every time I even try to so something for you, it winds up being some dumb joke."

"That's what this is about?" she asked, and the honest surprise in her voice took him off guard.  She really didn't know.  "I kid around a little bit and it ticks you off?"

When she put it that way, it seemed stupid.  Hell, maybe it was.  "Yes… No… Hell, I don't know.  I just don't even know when you're serious anymore."

"Life is too serious," she told him.  "We all need some levity."

He thought about that, and then let his mind go back to what had sparked the entire argument in the first place.  He had offered her some peace and quiet, and she had made a joke.  Damn, it was stupid.  "Why am I always apologizing to you?"

"Hell if I know," she told him, resting her head back down on his shoulder.

Once more, silence fell around them.  But this time, Lee didn't interrupt it.  He didn't worry about it, or offer anything.  He didn't even really consider what they were going to do about his father, and the burdens he was carrying.  Lee just settled in and enjoyed, because he was damned tired of apologizing for trying to do the right thing.

"Lee?"

His eyes closed in dread.  Lords, what had he done this time?  "What?"

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

He gave her a gentle squeeze, and the word he would have needed in her place.  "Forgiven."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 

Rumors were one thing, but life in Squadron Quarters was going to make Kara Thrace insane.  Completely.  Inevitably.

She didn't think there had been a single day in the last two weeks when she hadn't overheard at least one sideways comment about her sleeping her way up the ranks or how she had managed to keep from getting into trouble when she'd "attacked" the commander's son.  It was absurd.  And yet Lee wasn't denying it, nor was the eldest Adama.  It was as though they didn't hear the whispers, the insinuations.

She tried to follow their example.  Yet even as Lee's eye healed, the comments seemed to be increasing rather than decreasing.  Some of the comments had been about her and Lee – how they'd been sleeping together and this was all a lovers' quarrel – and others about her with his father, and yet every feigned explanation for the shiner had been blatantly ignored by the both of them.  It was nearly enough to make her insane.

She was used to this level of control from Lee.  He had always kept his private life just that – private – even when it became a target of speculation.  But she would have thought the commander would have done something to squelch the rumors that were still going around.  She couldn't get away from them, and it bothered her.  The only thing that bothered her more was that she felt anything at all.  What was so easy for the Adamas – the disregarding of others' opinion of them – was normally her territory.  It wasn't working out this time.  She actually cared what those around her thought, and that purely pissed her off.

Kara was used to controversy.  She'd been the best pilot at the Academy when she'd joined up, and when she'd out-flown the men she had taken more than one ribbing.  She had tried to become good-natured about it, as she had quickly become tired of the brig.  Next had come the talk of her past, or lack thereof.  She had no parents on record, and had initially joined on an orphan's waver, so everyone had seemed to think she should be the object of pity.  She hadn't felt that way, and had set straight anyone who did, although it had only placed her in more trouble.  Later, when she was tired of beating the men around her – and beating on them – she'd begun to drink.  It had numbed the pain, the feeling that she had no place with them, and for a while it had helped.  Unfortunately, it had been too easy.  It kept her from progressing in the ranks, it kept her grounded, and it reminded her too much of the drunken father who had not minded throwing his children around.

One morning she'd awoken in the brig with a hell of a hangover and a general resentment of life as she knew it.  From there, she'd stopped the drinking.  She hadn't really touched ambrosia since, although she developed a coffee addiction that bordered on legendary.  The difficulty with which she'd withdrawn from the alcohol had been all the proof she had needed that she would have to be careful.  She got hooked on things easily, but knowledge was power.  What she knew, she could control.  So she had kept her addiction to coffee, developed a passion for running, and she had loved to fly.  Adrenaline became her drug of choice, and she had fed on it.  The outlet had also minimized her encounters with Academy security, and her training had progressed once more.  She'd wound up in classes with Lee, a year younger, who was just about the only man who could keep up with her in a fighter.  He'd also become a running partner, a friend, and a constant mental challenge.

That was when the rumors had really gotten bad.  Even as they'd graduated and moved into the mandatory teaching phase of their education – the time they had to "give back" in exchange for flight school – the rumors that she and Lee were hot and heavy between the sheets had gotten ridiculous.  She supposed she hadn't helped matters then by ignoring them; perhaps some denial on either of their parts might have stopped the lies, but if they had then she never would have met Zak.

He'd come into her life during her last year of teaching.  As gorgeous and intelligent as his brother, he'd been considerably less stuffy.  He was Lee without the control, without the temperance.  She'd fallen in love before she'd known what had hit her.  It was like having her best friend suddenly endowed with romantic possibilities.  Lee had laughed about it, and would have really laughed if he'd known that half the attraction was the similarities that Zak shared with Lee, but he hadn't objected.

Their relationship had been quiet, yet it had been intense.  Within six months of meeting, they were engaged.  But for each similarity the brothers had shared, there was a difference as well.  Lee was controlled; Zak was free.  Lee was intense; Zak's laughter was contagious.  Lee was a teacher, and Zak was a student.  Lee was a pilot; Zak was not.  How any two men could be so different, and yet so alike, was beyond her.

She had figured it out the first time she'd met their father.  William Adama was a combination of his two sons, or rather each had taken characteristics from their father.  Lee had taken his leadership, intensity, and inability to tolerate weakness.  Zak had taken the sense of humor, judgement, and innate concern for others.  Looking at either of his sons, she could see Bill's reflection.  She had known then that Iilya was a very lucky woman.

Losing Zak had been hard, but losing Lee had been harder because that had meant that both of them were gone.  And yet she'd still had Bill, and in those first months he had been invaluable to her.  Iilya had left him just as she'd found herself on her own, so they had gravitated towards one another, two lost souls looking for comfort.  No, there wasn't anything romantic about it, but there was definitely more feeling there than just what a commander and pilot should share.  They were more than friends, but they weren't lovers.  Back then, there hadn't even been suspicion of such a thing.  Back then, the crew'd had their own lives to ponder, and they didn't need to look for gossip.  She wished that were the case now.

"Pensive," Bill said in a decisive voice.

Kara's head popped up, taking her attention from the mediocre meal that she was trying to choke down.  She preferred the memories, however bittersweet, to the food.  "Good morning," she said with a gesture to the seat across the table from her.  There were plenty of people around, and rumors be damned.  She took her friends where they were, and she refused to make excuses.

Truthfully, he had been eating in the mess hall more often, sometimes sitting with her and sometimes with Lee, and often with others as well.  She had watched the way others came to attention when he sat down next to them, but they didn't dare deny him the seat.  The more she saw it, the more she realized just what he had to deal with on a daily basis.

"Is it any good?" he asked without any real hope in his voice.

She didn't say a word; just smiled.  He gave a sigh and took a bite.

"How's it going up in CIC?" she asked.

He gave a shrug, taking another bite.  He wasn't chatty this morning.  That bothered her.  Normally if he braved the mess hall it was because he needed more than food.

"Has to be better than the deck," she told him absently as she took a drink of the synthetic coffee that she was finally beginning to develop a taste for.  "They're going to have to get my bunk set up back in the brig if some mouths don't close."

He looked at her then, nodding.  "At least it's acceptable – more or less – for you to wind up there.  I'm wondering just exactly what would happen if I hit a couple of the people I have to work with."  He sighed then.  "But I'm the example," he muttered. 

"I'll beat 'em up for ya," she offered with a half-smile.  She hated what this was doing to him.

He shook his head, but she got at least a bit of a smile from him in response.  It was better than nothing.

"I know, it'll only make things worse," she said, echoing his sigh.  "I don't know how Lee ignores it every day.  I think he's had the worst of it."

"He's the most visible," Bill allowed.  He didn't say any more, most likely because they were within earshot of more than one person and conversations around them had become suspiciously quiet since the commander had taken a seat.

"Morning."  Kara and Bill both looked up as Lee nodded to the seat next to Kara.  "Room for one more?"

Their heads bobbed in unison as he sat down.  "Eye's looking better," Kara said, referring to the yellow and faded green shadows that were faint beneath it.

"I'm just glad it doesn't hurt," he told him with a wink.

"Enjoy the painless part," his father told him.  "You won't have the same from this meal."

The three of them laughed, but Kara wasn't oblivious to the looks and snickers that were going around the hall.  "Great, now they'll be talking about a threesome," she muttered under her breath.

Lee must have heard her because he winked, and she was left with no choice but to laugh.

"At the very least," Bill said as he took a bite, chewed, then swallowed with a grimace, "It'll put an end to the rumors that Lee and I are fighting over you."

"I thought the rumors didn't matter?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's become tedious," he admitted.  "And it's interfering with work getting done, which I can't allow.  It's not a matter of undermining my authority, but rather of gossiping instead of working.  We may not be actively engaged, but this is still a war.  We have to be ready, and that can't happen if half of CIC is busy taking wagers on who is sleeping with whom."

"So say we all," Lee agreed.

"How about one of us gets out of sight?" Kara offered.  "You know, move one of us until the rumors fade a bit.  It can't hurt, can it?"

"More than likely it would," Lee said quietly.  "Whoever gets sent is out of the equation, but that only makes it worse on whoever stays."

She sighed.  "I suppose so."

"I don't know," Bill said thoughtfully.  "It might help.  At least, get things back onto more familiar footing."

"What do you mean?" Lee asked.

The commander gave a shrug.  "Rumors have been flying about the two of you since the war began," he explained.  "It was better than what we're dealing with now.  If we get the two of you off the ship for a while – even a few days – then rumors would probably fall back into that direction.  I realize it's not ideal, but it's better than the mess we have now.  It didn't appear to bother you two before."

Kara tipped her head to one side.  "How do you expect to explain both your CAG and deputy being off ship at the same time?"

"We need other pilots," Lee offered.  "One of us was going to have to do another sweep of the fleet.  We could both go."

"It would give your subordinates good practice in managing without you," Bill added.  "In any wartime situation, you can't have the squads too dependant on any one – or two – people."

Kara felt like she was watching a pre-planned by-play.  "How long have you two been plotting this?" she asked bluntly.

Bill kept a totally straight face, but Lee's faint blush gave him away.  "A few days," he finally said, as though he knew he'd been caught.  His father gave him a glare for disclosing that much.

"And you couldn't just let me in on it?  How the heck did you make it sound like my idea?" she asked impatiently.

"It's always easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission," Bill said with a sheepish glance in her direction.  "So long as you don't mind the implications, of course.  If the two of you are gone at the same time, the crew is likely to believe…"

"That's been the case since we were at the academy," she mumbled.

"True.  They figured any man you didn't hit was in your bed," Lee joked.  She didn't laugh.  It annoyed her when Bill did.

"What's the plan," she asked in a resigned tone of voice.  She'd hit one or the both of them later; now there were too many witnesses.

"We have some candidates on the Rising Star," Lee told her.  "There's also some repair work that's been done on some of her shuttles that we need to check, and that's command level.  I would have had to have gone anyway.  In any case it'll get us out of the line of fire for a few days, and make it less likely that you'll kill someone."

"Right."

Both Lee and his father laughed at that.  Kara found that whatever appetite she might have had was long gone, so she shoved her half-full plate away.  "When do we leave?" she asked.

"Can you be ready by morning?" Lee asked, and she could have sworn there was sympathy in his voice.

She gave a nod.  "I need to get back on shift for the moment, though.  I'll do my best not to kill anyone while I'm there."

The look on Lee's face told her that he didn't know whether or not to take her seriously.  Hell, she didn't know how to take herself.  So she wiped her mouth on her napkin, tossed the paper onto her plate, and left the mess hall.  Let one of them deal with her dishes, she thought.  They had certainly felt they could play with the rest of her life; why not her breakfast?

As aircraft went, Lee would have rather had a Viper, or at the very least a Raptor.  He hated the unarmed, inflexible, over-age shuttle that they would be taking.  But there were several reasons – each as valid as the next – as to why they couldn't risk a Raptor on such a routine flight.  He knew that; he just didn't like it.

"Home sweet home," Kara muttered as she followed him aboard, tossed a duffel into the cargo hold, and then took the pilot's seat.

"Hey!"

"If I'm in this can," she informed him without looking at him.  "I'm flying it.  Prepare for check."

Lee rolled his eyes, but reached for the clipboard.  They had railroaded her into enough regarding this "mission", so he wouldn't press her any further.  They went over the preflight list with a familiarity born of years flying, and years as friends.  They couldn't read one another's minds, but it was a near thing.  They finished in record time.

"How long will this take, anyway?" she asked him.  She'd been annoyed enough the morning before that she hadn't bothered with questions, and he hadn't seen her since.

"The inspection will go quickly – maybe twelve hours.  Selecting the candidates will be the second day, so that'll run longer.  We should be back in seventy-two at the most."

She nodded her understanding and began to power up the shuttle.  It didn't take her long.  Lords, she was a wonder to watch in action, Lee thought to himself.  When it came to flying, she was practically joined with the spacecraft, even one she flew as rarely as a shuttle.  No motion was wasted, every movement graceful and with purpose.   He found himself staring at competent hands when he should have been giving dutiful replies, and then he blushed.

"Problem?" she asked with one eyebrow raised.

"How long's it been since you flew shuttles?" he asked.

She gave a shrug.  "Haven't," she admitted.  "A bird's a bird, though.  Same basic controls, same colonial design.  It doesn't take much."

Lee knew better.  He always took a few minutes orienting himself to a new craft, even if it was the same model and just not his own.  He had never shown the natural talent that Kara had for flying.  He was good at it, but that was because he had worked his ass off in flight school.  Kara simply did it because it was a part of her.  Yes, he would admit to more than a little jealousy for that kind of talent; most men would.

Launch went off without a hitch, as he'd known it would.  With Kara at the helm, and him backing up, even the ancient shuttle was manageable.  The trouble didn't start until after they had cleared the perimeter of the fleet.

As was the procedure, Kara's path had taken them around the outside of the established fleet boundaries.  It was simply too dangerous to move between closely flying ships.  As a result, they were perhaps a quarter mile away from the nearest ship, midway between the Galactica and the Rising Star along the length of the fleet, when he heard the explosion.

"Frak!"

He didn't bother asking what was wrong; Kara had her hands full, and the smoke billowing from behind him told him all that he needed to know.  They were on fire, and it was spreading.  In the vacuum of space, anything that ate up oxygen was a concern, and fire was first in their line of enemies.  Grabbing a hand-held extinguisher which was thankfully less ancient than the shuttle, he headed towards the back wall where flames were licking along the inside of the uppermost wall.  Using careful aim, he directed the flow of the extinguisher beginning at the outside, where he knew the fuel pods to be, and worked his way inward.  He said a quick prayer that the fire was only on the inside; he couldn't combat anything external, but then he shouldn't have to.  Lack of oxygen should take care of that.

Methodically he assured that the flames were extinguished along the crack between upper wall and ceiling, the fire retardant sealing the breach as it took out the flames.  Then, when he was sure that he had the fire out, he went over the area a second and third time for good measure.  He hoped Kara was faring as well.

When he finally made it back to the front of the shuttle, covered in soot from the fire and flakes from the extinguishing solution, it was to find Kara calling the shuttle every name in the book – none of them good, and many that he hadn't heard before.  He was fairly sure he didn't want to know their meaning.

"Status?" he asked.

"Frakking ancient piece of shit isn't worth…" 

He let her go on for a few more minutes, knowing that if she didn't vent her frustration verbally she would as likely as not do so physically.  He wasn't in the mood for another black eye when the first hadn't entirely healed, and he didn't want to deal with her broken fist from putting it into a wall.  So he waited until the adrenaline from the incident faded enough that she was coherent, and he tried again.  "How's the ship."

She glared at him, but the stream of profanity didn't begin again.  "Wireless out, oxygen at forty percent, and we're drifting.  The engines are shot, but I'm not picking up any more internal oxygen leaks.  Fuel cell is intact, but we've apparently lost our lines because we're running on stored power, not generating anything new."

He didn't bother asking how she knew what she knew; if Kara said it, then that was it.  She had the ability to put together the dozens of instrumental clues that were available – even in an unfamiliar craft – and figure out just what she was dealing with.  Tyrol had trained her well, so questioning would be pointless, and potentially dangerous as well.  Kara was not in a good mood.

"Priorities?" he asked.  It didn't occur to him that he was in command; Kara had a better grasp at the moment than he did.

She took a deep breath, let it out, then took another.  "Oxygen," she said simply.  We'll need to check that manually; I won't trust the instruments.  Check the emergency supplies and oxygen as well, because we may be here a while.  I have no communications, Lee, and this thing doesn't come with either gear or equipment to facilitate an outside repair.  I can't tell you what blew, but something did.  We sit here until we're missed, then they find us, and tow us in.  We can't radio in, we can't get back ourselves, and we can't do one frakking thing about any of it."

Lee resumed his seat, letting out a long breath.  "How long?" he asked.

She shook her head.  "An hour, maybe two until we're missed.  The flight plan wasn't all that specific, and this bucket has wireless that's so inadequate they may not realize we're out of communication for a bit; not until the Rising Star reports us as not arrived, Galactica confirms us as departed – you get the drill.  Hell, it may not be until shift change.  Another hour for them to figure out what's up, find us, and then send a tow.  We're looking at about two for them to get it done, and another to secure things so we can get out.

Lee had been calculating mentally.  "So six hours – at a bare minimum – for us to get back shipboard."

"That's about it, and that's best-case scenario.  More likely between eight and ten.  The only way we'll manage it at six is because your dad isn't likely to let things drag."

"Dad's off shift," Lee said softly.

"Hmm?"

"Colonel Tigh has CIC.  Dad's off until fifteen-hundred."

"So double that estimate," Kara said dryly.

Lee didn't comment; he didn't want to waste the energy trying to convince her of something he wasn't sure of himself.  "You said forty-percent on oxygen," Lee said.  "What's that in time."

She turned to look at him, her expression flat.  "Don't do a lot of dancing," she told him.  "We should be okay, even up to about ten hours.  Should be.  Then there's the emergency supplies, which is another two hours, or four if we're really careful.  We'll be okay, Lee.  It's not like we won't be missed.  Flight plans are too solid for that, and you know it."

Lee shook his head.  "Anything else?"

"Power," she answered.  "If we cut internal lights, we have a couple hours with the heaters.  After that…"

"It's gonna get chilly," he concluded.

"That's about it."

He thought for a moment.  "Cut the lights," he agreed.  "And cut the heaters by half; that'll stretch it out for a while."

"And bring the temp down to the fifties," she complained.

"Survivable," he assured her.  "I'll check the back for emergency supplies.  Be grateful for that flight suit, otherwise we'd be reliant on body heat."

She rolled her eyes at him, but he got the reaction he was going for – she smiled.  "We'll get through this," she muttered.  "But it won't be fun."

It took them only a few minutes to manage what they had decided on.  Kara took care of the power rationing and the electrical status for the heaters, while he checked out the main oxygen tanks and supplies.  Unfortunately, the reality wasn't all he could have hoped for.  Ten hours would be damned unlikely for the oxygen they had remaining, even cutting that to a level which would barely keep them conscious.  Another issue with the power was filtering out impurities.  All the oxygen in the world wouldn't help them if the carbon dioxide levels got too high.  Filtration would steal some power as well.  By the time they had checked things out, rerouted their power to where it was most needed, and moved to the back of the shuttle where the engine heat would keep them warm for just a bit longer, nearly an hour had already passed.

Lee had tossed the emergency supplies back against the warm wall, although it wouldn't stay that way long.  Still, the bulk of the engines would block more of the coldness of space than the thinner front of the shuttle.  He'd pulled out a couple of emergency blankets, but their effectiveness was dubious when in flight suits.  The suits were designed to keep hot or cold out, not to keep body temperature stable on the inside.  If they got too warm – started sweating – then the suits would have to go because the lack of ventilation would cause them to freeze.  They had water back here too, but only emergency food bars which weren't a treat.  It would keep them alive until help arrived.  At least, he hoped it would.

"This is not what I had in mind," Lee admitted as he took his place against the wall on the deck of the shuttle.  He felt Kara do the same, sitting close for warmth.  Or at least, he assumed that was what it was.  He slipped an arm around behind her, settling in for the duration.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked softly.

"Just… getting out of there," he admitted.  "I was tired of the glances and the whispers.  I thought a few days might make it a little less fresh in their minds; a little less raw in mine."

"It…" she began, but didn't finish.

"What?"

"It didn't bother you before," she said in resignation.  He wished he could see her face, but any light they'd had was extinguished when the drifting of the spacecraft had faced them away from the fleet.  There weren't many stars in the area they were currently passing through, so it was nearly pitch black.  "And you were right, they've been whispering about us since the Academy."

"I thought it was funny then," he admitted.  "When Dad started figuring into the conversation, it wasn't funny anymore."

"You're awfully protective of a man you didn't speak to for two years," she told him, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Don't go there," he requested.  "It's not something I want to think about."

"Sorry," she said.  She meant it.  It was there in her voice.  Without the lights, it was amazing what he could hear in her intonation.  Had her voice always been that expressive, or was she just that nervous now – not holding back?"

"Comfortable?" he asked.  It was a mundane question, but what else could he ask?  It wasn't as though they could do anything about it if she weren't.

"Fine."  She was silent for a moment, then, "Lee?"

"Hmm?"

"You checked the oxygen?"

He hadn't given her a report, not wanting to be the bearer of news he couldn't change.  "I cut down the level.  We should stay conscious, but not much more.  If we go past eight hours, we'll have to use the masks."

"Any way to route it through the masks now?" she asked.  "Maybe keep it confined to us rather than the whole shuttle?"

He shook his head before realizing that she couldn't see him.  "Ventilation system is too damned old.  It would take me hours to rig it, and that would defeat the purpose."

He felt her nod of understanding.  "It was a lot easier to be sensible about this before the lights went out," she muttered.  He felt her shift against him, cuddling closer.  Cold?  It hadn't been long enough for the temperature to really change.  Another thought occurred to him.

"Are you claustrophobic?" he asked soflty.

"I didn't think so," she admitted.  Honesty.  There was no sarcasm, no humor, and no making fun of it.  Kara was nervous.  He squeezed with the arm he had around her, surprised when she shifted against him, pulling away slightly and sliding down his body.  She kept her back to him, and wound up with her head on his legs, his arm held firmly by hers.

"You okay?" he asked.  He didn't know whether to expect sarcasm as a response or something different.  She didn't seem like the Kara he knew right now.  She hadn't since the lights had gone out.

"I guess," she said after a long pause.  "You?"

"The same," he admitted.  Reaching behind him, he found the blanket that he'd thrown up against the wall.  It wasn't the thin material they used for warmth, but rather an older material designed for weight and warmth, even when wet.  It had been military issue long before ships had moved to the sky, or so he'd been told.  It was what they normally used on their bunks, but not often otherwise.  He tossed the blanket over her, pulling her body in next to his.  It worried him when she let him.  She wasn't shaking – not exactly – but she wasn't acting right either and there was a barely perceptible tremmor there.

It was then that it hit him; adrenaline drop.  He'd felt it himself immediately following the fire, but he hadn't seen the same settling in Kara.  He was feeling it now in the mild form of shock she was showing.  He could almost guarantee now that if he were take her temperature it would be low, and her blood sugar as well.  She'd been the one more startled by the explosion – more involved in its damage to the spacecraft – so she was feeling it more strongly than he had.  If he asked, he was fairly sure she'd deny it, so he didn't bother.  Instead, he tugged her close, wrapped the blanket around her, and listened for her breathing.  He wasn't surprised when it deepened and slowed, her body shutting down for much-needed sleep.  It was a good thing, really.  Her body would use less oxygen in this state, require less heat, and she'd be under less stress.

He desperately wished that he could do the same, but knew that one of them had to stay alert just in case they were lucky enough for an early rescue.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Kara surfaced slowly, opening her eyes to a total darkness that was disorienting.  It actually took her a moment to realize that her eyes were open, and that while her back was chilled she was resting against a warm weight from head to chest.  It took her a moment more to realize that the resilient surface wasn't her bed, but Lee's flight suit clad legs.  She shifted herself slightly, still unable to see, but flooded with memories that she would just as soon forget.

While she was warm enough from the chest up, and also across her back, her legs were another matter entirely.  She felt like they were frozen in place, and moving them took more than a little effort.

"G'morning," Lee said in a gravelly voice.

"Mmm," was her only reply as she shifted stiff muscles, more than a little embarrassed to have turned her friend into a convenient pillow.

"Stay," he said, his voice still hoarse.  "You're warm."

And she did, because he was right.  Also because movement had made her dizzy.  "How long was I out?" she asked, and found that her own voice didn't sound much better than his.  It was the cold, she decided.  And their oxygen level was definitely lower if simple movement was sapping her strength.

He shifted his arm, reaching over her head with the other to touch his wrist.  Until then, she hadn't realized that he'd kept his hands tucked beneath her body.  Sensible, she thought.  It was the way to keep warm.  "About four hours," he finally answered.

"Shit."

"Adrenaline," he told her.  "The crash… always bad."

If their oxygen was this low after only four hours, they were in trouble.  "Why is the O-2 so low?" she asked, shifting herself to allow him to tuck his hands back beneath her.

"Not," he answered, and she felt a shiver run through him.  "But the… cold…"

"Makes it worse," she finished.  And then it occurred to her that she was shivering a lot less than he was.  She also came to the conclusion that the reason movement was so difficult was that he had not only one arm, but also several blankets wrapped around her.  "Lee?"

"Hmm?"  It was more grunt than question.

"Why do I have all the blankets?"

There was a long silence.  "You were shivering," he finally said, with a definite quaver to his voice.  Men.  Not the brightest creatures that the Lords ever created, she decided.

"Here," she said as she moved up his body, taking a seat between his legs, her back to his chest..  He wasn't kidding about the cold.  His flight suit was like ice, although she knew that along their timeline the temperatures should still be around sixty.  It sure as hell felt colder than that.  She untucked the blankets from around her shoulders as she moved into position, then tucked the corners over his shoulders.  He was doing a little too much shivering to argue, so when she leaned him against him and pinned him between the wall and her body, he had little reaction beyond putting his arms around her to pull her in close.  Now they were lined up from head to toe – more or less – with her back to his front, her bottom in his lap, and the blankets around both of them. 

She shivered herself for a moment or two, but finally the heat seemed to seep between them, enclosed by the heavy blankets.  His arms were around her body, hands tucked beneath her arms, and her own were crossed over his.  It was going to be a long wait, so they might as well get comfortable.  "Your turn to sleep," she told him quietly.

"No," he said.  He didn't argue – there was no give in his voice – but simply stated fact.

"Why?"

Silence for a long time.  Too long.  "Lee?"

He still didn't speak for a long time, and when he did it wasn't reassuring.  "I'm not sure I'd wake up," he admitted.

"You let me sleep," she reminded him, grateful that at least moving around a bit had him talking a bit more normally.  He must be warming up.

"At first I wasn't worried.  You needed the sleep.  When it got cold, I kept a hand on your chest just in case.  Made sure you were breathing."

She let a breath go, not having been aware that she had been holding it.  "Thanks," she finally said.  What else could she say?  "It's my turn now.  You need the sleep."

He didn't answer, and she knew she couldn't force it.  She did however keep herself awake.  Her hands weren't anywhere near his chest, but she could feel the warm breath by her cheek where his chin rested on her shoulder.  It was slow and even, so if he wasn't sleeping then he was at least resting.

Somewhere in the dark silence, the fear that had been nagging at her finally released.  Worst case scenario was that they would die here.  While not her first preference, at the very least she wasn't in pain, and she wasn't alone.  Further, it wasn't by Cylon hand, and for some reason that was important to her.  She was cold, yes, even with Lee's not insignificant heat behind her.  Her front was more than cold, letting her know that somehow they had made a miscalculation regarding the heat.  She didn't know if it had been deliberate in favor of oxygen, or if they had just been erroneous in their estimation of their power, oxygen, or both.  At this point it didn't matter.  It was too dark to find their way back through the controls to change anything, so they had to settle in and make the best of it.  Yes, she could think of many worse ways to die than in the arms of a friend.

But that didn't mean that she wanted to die here.  In fact, if she had her way she'd live a very long and productive life.  She just couldn't give up the small kernel of hope that they might get out of this.  Oddly, it wasn't really even for herself that she wanted to live.  It was for a friend.

She had watched Bill Adama lose one child, and it had very nearly torn him apart.  If they weren't found in time, not only would he lose Lee, but her as well.  Somehow she didn't think that he could survive that, and she knew damned well that the fleet couldn't' survive without him.  Odd how it appeared the life of every man, woman, and child in the human race seemed to come down to two people on a very cold spaceship.  That was melodramatic of course, but she was feeling that way.

"Still with me?" The voice was breathed, more than spoken, into her ear.  Rather than replying with words, she tightened her arms over his.  "Do you want me to check the settings?" he asked.  "Maybe I was wrong when I estimated the O-2 level."

"Doesn't matter," she said simply.  "I know for damned sure what the power relays were reading, and it's not consistent with the lack of heat.  All that means is that the readings were off.  Looking again isn't going to change that."

She was silent again, because he knew she was right.  He was probably making up excuses to talk anyway.  It was easy to lose the feeling of reality when feeling so cold and completely sightless.  She shivered again, the cold still getting to her.  The suits were designed to keep out brief periods of cold or heat, but not extended exposure to either.  Vipers tended to move quickly, so temperature extremes weren't normally an issue.  Just as Lee's heat was seeping into her back, so was the persistent cold nagging at her front.

"Talk to me," he whispered.

She smiled at that.  Lee Adama showing weakness; amazing.  She could have argued about oxygen levels and conservation of energy, but something in his voice told her that he didn't want to talk.  He needed to.

"What about?"

"Anything," he whispered again, warmth against her cheek and in her ear.  "Nothing.  Hell, I don't care."

"Are _you_ claustrophobic?" she asked.  Maybe the darkness was getting to him.

"No," he told her, "But I really hate the dark.  There aren't even any stars visible.  I didn't know it could be this dark."

"Close your eyes," she advised.  "It helps some; fools your mind into thinking it's just in your head."

"How do you know?" he asked.

She debated whether or not to answer, then decided that she might as well.  At the very least it would take his mind off where they were.  "Practice," she told him.  "When I was a kid… let's just say I spent a lot of time in closets, sometimes voluntarily and sometimes not, but I learned to make it easier over time."

"Why would you be in a closet?"

She took a deep breath, or as close to one as she could manage.  It didn't ease the tightness in her chest.  Some things she didn't talk about, ever.  Some things she hadn't even told Zak, and they were going to be married.  She'd mentioned of course that her childhood hadn't been ideal, and that she really didn't feel comfortable with the idea of having children, but he had assured her that it didn't matter.  All that mattered was that they loved one another.  Lords help her, she had believed him.

"Kara?"

"My dad drank," she said simply.  "When he was sober, and I got on his nerves, he'd lock me in the closet.  Usually it was just a few minutes, but sometimes… when he drank he forgot."

"Lords, Kara," he said softly, with just enough pity in his voice that she couldn't stand it.

"It wasn't so bad," she remarked, trying to do so casually.  "Hell, sometimes I went there without being locked in.  If he got to drinking before I got on his nerves, then when he started to get… well, I'd go in the closet and wait it out.  Sometimes an hour or two until he passed out, and sometimes all night.  It wasn't bad, Lee.  It's just how it was."

"Did you have brothers or sisters?"

She shook her head, thinking that if he couldn't see her, then at least he could feel it.  "Not that I know of.  It's a little fuzzy.  One time he hurt me – really hurt me – and then he was gone.  I got fostered out fairly early, and they were good people.  I stayed with them until I was sixteen, then enlisted.  I saved cubits and paid my way through flight school, then slipped into an orphan reserve slot at the Academy.  And the rest you know; my life story."

"No wonder you're a tough one," he said on a whisper, and she felt his lips brush over her cheek; maybe a kiss, and maybe not.  She couldn't be sure.  But it was warm, and warmth was something to be treasured right now.

"I guess that's why I like your Dad so much," she finally said.  "I never had one.  Not really."

"I didn't either," Lee said softly.  "Dad was like… this legend.  Zak and I were taught to revere him, and when he came home it was beyond big.  We wouldn't let go of him for days.  We absolutely idolized him.  And then he was gone again, sometimes for a month and sometimes more than a year.  Mom cried a lot, told us how important he was to keeping the colonies safe.  I've probably spent more time with him in the last six months than I had in my whole life up until then."  He gave a self-derisive laugh.  "Not much to complain about after what you went through."

"We all have our demons," she said, still unable to catch her breath.  "How low did you set the O-2?"

"Low," he answered.  "We just don't know how long…"

"I know," she agreed, at least her mind did – her words did.  "But it's hard to breathe.  It's like being smothered slowly."

"I can turn it up," he told her.  "It will decrease our time, but it would be more comfortable."

"No," she said.  "I don't want to be cold again, and I can take this.  I'll just pretend it's an extended launch."

"That's what it feels like," he agreed.  "About four G's that won't go away."

"Yeah, and I don't have someone leaning on me."

He rubbed his cheek against hers.  "It's worth it to stay warm."

They were quiet for a while longer, both catching their breath after the short conversation.  Kara had no clue what had drawn her to talk about the history she had all but forgotten; she supposed that the difficult times in life tended to remind one of the more difficult times already survived.  She took that as assurance she would survive again.  Lords, she hoped so.  She prayed so.

"Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer," she whispered.  "Please take notice of your son and daughter, and send us help.  Not for me, I pray, but for William Adama.  He's lost too many children, Lords.  Please don't take us both from him at once."

"So say we all," Lee whispered back.

Kara startled; she'd had no clue she was speaking aloud.  She had thought the prayer was silent, as most of her prayers were, leftover comforts from the only good parts of her growing up.

"Are you worried?" she asked.

He was silent so long that she knew he was going to tell her the truth; a lie would have been faster to fabricate.  "I'm concerned," he finally said.  His watch flashed for a moment – too quickly for her to see it.

"How long?"

"Seven and a half," he told her.  "They might be here any time."

"Or not," she said softly, surprised that it had been so long.  Now it wasn't just a matter of cold, but also of time.  Theirs was limited, even at best.  This wasn't by any means the best.

She felt Lee's arms tighten around her, and she responded by squeezing them with her own.  "They'll be here," he told her, confidence fading from his voice as compared to what it had been."

The next time he checked his watch was at the ten hour point.  Quite some time later, Kara knew it had been too long.  Oxygen was getting fainter, and breathing more difficult.  At some point, Lee had fallen asleep.  She didn't wake him.  It was easier this way.  If they had to die, at least it was a gentle death, although nothing like what she would have expected.  For some reason, she had expected to go out in a blaze of light, most likely in battle.  The thought of falling asleep just didn't set with her, so she fought it as long as she could.  When blackness finally ate through the icy silence, the only thing that kept Kara from fighting it was the arms still solidly around her and the soft breath in her ear.  Thrashing about wouldn't save her; it would only wake Lee, and there was no point in making this difficult for both of them.  So she closed her eyes, embraced the dark, and let it take her.

He was warm.  Why this was significant, he couldn't have said, but it was the predominant sensation he was feeling.  Warmth.  Blessed, wonderful, reassuring warmth that kept the ice at bay.

Ice.  Cold.

With a jolt, Lee awoke to find himself slightly bound by numerous blankets and a mask over his face.  He jerked slightly, head thrashing to the side, and not recognizing initially what was wrong and then panicking when he did.

"Easy, Son."  The voice was deep, solid, and familiar.  It offered comfort as nothing else could have; not even the warmth of the woman he'd become accustomed to in the suffocating, freezing ship.  Still, panic aside, the voice of his father reached the child within him and kept him calm, or at the very least coherent.

"Kara?"

"She's right here," his father answered, stepping back to allow him to see the cot next to him and the woman lying there.  Like him, she had a mask on her face and tubes extending from her blankets.  For that matter, so many blankets that only her face visible, barely that with the mask.  She looked impossibly pale; almost blue.  "She'll be fine.  You both will."

Lee released a breath, then took another gulp of coveted air.  They were here.  They had made it.  "How…?"

"As soon as we realized that you hadn't arrived on the Rising Star, we started searching.  From what we can tell, an engine blew out and threw you away from the fleet, then you must have continued drifting.  By the time we found you, got you secured and back to the Galactica, both of you were unconscious."

"How long?" he asked on a croak. 

"It was two hours before you were reported missing," Adama said gently.  "And nearly ten to find you and get you back home.  Doctor Salik has already done scans on the two of you, and he found no damage due to either the cold or the oxygen deprivation.  In fact, he said the cold just might be what had kept you alive; your bodies were just this side of hibernating.  You used less oxygen, so it lasted until we could get to you."

"Kara?"

"She's fine, Son.  Sleeping, just like you were.  She'll wake when she's ready."

He nodded, his throat too sore to bother with speech for the moment, although he had hundreds of questions forming in his rapidly waking mind.  His mouth was dry and cottony, and his head hurt.  None of it mattered when compared to the woman next to him.  "How long… back?"

"A couple of hours," Adama answered, his hand remaining on Lee's shoulder.  It had started out there for restraint, but appeared to be remaining to offer comfort.  Lee had to wonder who was offering comfort to Kara… who would be there when she woke up in confusion?  "We'll keep you in here until she's awake," his father told him with more understanding in his voice than Lee could comprehend.  "I won't make you leave her."

Lee closed his eyes.  Had he been that obvious?  He supposed it wasn't a mystery that the two of them were friends, but if they had been found together… He remembered how they had been sitting, and it took less than that to make rumors go nuts on the Galactica.  He didn't want matters worse rather than better.  "Who picked us up?"

"Chief Tyrol took a team out personally.  He was so upset that one of his engines, however old, had failed.  He made it his responsibility.  Lieutenant Gaeta tracked the shuttle, planned out a route, and Tyrol went out to tow you back.  We had medical standing ready when they cut the shuttle open.  You and she were so still…"

"I fell asleep," he said softly.  "I was just so damned cold."

"Kara too," Adama said quietly.  "I think hypothermia would have gotten her if you hadn't been holding her.  As it was you were both dangerously cold when they pulled you out.  Then again, as the Doctor reminded me, it was a good thing.  At regular temperatures, your bodies would have required more oxygen than was available.  We could be looking at severe oxygen deprivation and most likely brain damage.  With your bodies nearly shut down, there was no damage done."

"Maybe not physically," Lee muttered, swallowing again to relieve his dry throat but having little success.  "But you try sitting in a pitch black ship with no heat and very little air, especially when you have a friend relying on you.  I'll be a long time before I turn the lights off."

His father smiled, but Lee wasn't sure how much of what he was saying was a joke.  At the very least Kara had some – if not good memories – experience in dark, closed spaces.  Lee hadn't, and the experience was more than was willing to cope with at the moment.  He had never been particularly claustrophobic, even managing the sensory deprivation time at the Academy with no difficulty.  But he'd been in no danger then; this time had been different.  This time he hadn't known if he was going to get out or not.

"Why am I tied down?" he asked.

"You aren't.  It's blankets, mostly; one heating and two normal to retain the heat.  The IV has warm fluid as well.  You're still a bit colder than Salik would like, but your temperature is coming up quickly.  Kara's has been normal for a while since she's smaller than you, but she's being a little stubborn about waking up.  The doc can do it with drugs, but he thinks it's better if she wakes up on her own so for the time being we wait."

He turned his head back to the side, watching Kara.  She was as still as before; just as pale.

"Dad?"

His father looked down at him eagerly.  "What?"

How could he ask this without sounding stupid?  It was irrational, and silly, and entirely unpractical.  But he needed it, just for the reassurance.  "Do these things roll?"  He patted the bed he was lying on.

"Where do you want to go?" his father asked, but there wasn't confusion on his face; just a kind of understanding that Lee didn't want to analyze. 

"If there's room, can you stick me over there?"  He gestured towards Kara's cot.  His father said nothing, but nodded and fiddled with something at the foot of the cot before rolling it over to Kara's.  Lee fished around under his blankets until he could release one hand, then slipped it up under Kara's blankets.  It wasn't until then that he realized the flight suits were gone, leaving the two of them clad in hospital attire.  It didn't matter though, not with half a dozen blankets between them.

After a moment of reaching and searching, Lee found Kara's warm hand under the mass of blankets.  He traced the fingers to palm, and then moved to her wrist where he found a pulse, strong and steady.   Only then did he relax, letting the warmth of the blankets take him back under, dropping him into a healing, restful sleep.

Bill Adama watched his son's eyes close, and for the first time since he'd awoken the young man looked at peace.  Bill couldn't imagine what it must have been like to huddle in a ship for hours on end, cold and without air, but he didn't think his son's words had been a joke.  This would affect Lee, and most likely Kara as well.

Lee and Kara.  Lords, he had thought that both were gone.  During the interminable time while Lieutenant Gaeta had been running active sensors to find them – a reasonable precaution given that they were at war – William had quite literally held his breath.  He'd lost Lee once, nearly a second time, and the same could be said for Kara.  And yet, until he was faced the prospect of losing both of them at once, he hadn't really realized what fear could be. 

The wait for the ship to be brought back to the Galactica – a tricky procedure at best – had nearly driven him insane.  They were in there, and isolated, and yet even with Tyrol's ship only a few feet away, they were unable to get any life-preserving measures into place.  They couldn't get the ship power, and they couldn't get its occupants any survival supplies.  The situation had been beyond unacceptable; it had been terrifying.

He was a warrior, and had been for most of his life.  He'd fought in wars, been injured in battle, and had faced more life and death situations than he cared to remember.  Still, facing his own death had been nothing when compared to facing the death of his children.  And yes, Kara was as good as his own, even if he'd never told her as much.  She might not have become his daughter-in-law officially, but they shared the bond of family just the same.

Bill had been right behind Salik's crew when they'd entered the ship, something they'd been unable to do in space because there was no docking capability in the old vessel.  Having seen the charred outer shell, he had not expected them to be alive.  With power all but drained, and oxygen depleted, his prayers had increased.  He remembered once watching Kara say grace before a meal, and wondered if she had been praying.  He wondered if they'd had the chance, or if the explosion had knocked them both out.  He didn't know which alternative his terrified mind preferred.  The thought of them slowly freezing or suffocating wasn't something he wanted to contemplate, and yet losing them without their being able to even try to save themselves seemed almost worst.

When he'd entered the icy ship behind Salik's team, William had been struck by the cold, and then as emergency lights had illuminated the cabin his heart had stopped.  Two still figures had been huddled against the back wall, unconscious and all but buried in blankets.  He had watched Doctor Salik physically pry Lee's arms from around Kara, and between the blue of their skin and the cold, he had been sure that they were dead.  Both of them; his entire family gone.

Thankfully, Salik had jumped to no such conclusions.  He'd had their bodies stretched out, uniforms cut off, and warming blankets in place before Bill had been able to get close enough to touch them.  That had been a blessing as well, because nearly thirty minutes later he had taken his son's hand in Life Station and had been shocked at how chilled the skin was even after that length of therapy.  Kara had seemed marginally warmer when he'd kissed her forehead above the mask - wishing her a quick recovery -  but that might have been because her smaller form had less volume to warm or because he had reached for her head instead of her hand, an area of the body which received significantly more blood flow.  William didn't know – didn't care – but he wanted to see his son as warm.  Warm, awake, and alert.

Now, thankfully, he had seen that.  But it didn't relieve all his worry.  Kara was still sleeping, although Salik assured him that it _was_ sleep rather than some form of coma.  Her brain activity was normal, as Lee's had been.  And yet a father couldn't turn off the concern by receiving only a few moments of reprieve.  Additionally, there was a certain amount of sting in the fact that Lee's concern had been for Kara rather than himself, but that was most likely the responsibility that Lee always carried.  He habitually worried about others. 

Nevertheless, it had been the comfort of Kara's hand that had allowed the young man to rest, and not his father's touch.  Yes, it was petty and selfish, but it had been a long day.  William Adama was hurt by his son responding to a sleeping woman rather than his wide-awake father.  Sensible?  Of course not, but then familial feelings rarely were.

On the other hand, he was just glad that his son had found comfort somewhere.  The fear in Lee's expression when he had awoken had been almost more than any father could take.  The worst of it was that he wasn't all-powerful anymore, and he wasn't almighty, as his sons had once believed.  Instead, he was at the mercy of uncertain medicine and unpredictable circumstances.  The situation was unacceptable; and he couldn't to a damned thing to change it.

One of the technicians had moved over to Lee, and she made no comment regarding the movement of his cot.  Instead, she took a device and ran it over his forehead and then around behind his ear.  Looking at the device, she smiled.  "Ninety-seven, two," she stated.  "Very close to normal.  Has he been awake?"

"For a few minutes," William answered.

The technician smiled again, then moved around the cots rather than between them to check Kara in the same manner.  The smile returned, followed by a quick adjustment to the warmer's controls.

"How is she?"

"Ninety-nine," Cassie answered.  "I'm lowering the blanket temperature; we dong want to give her a fever."  When he nodded his understanding, Cassie looked up to meet his eyes.  "Has she been awake?"

William shook his head, and tried not to take the slight frown too seriously.  Lee had woken up when he was ready, and Kara would do the same.  It was all a matter of waiting.

But by the next morning, waiting wasn't what he wanted to do.  It had been difficult enough when it had been only himself sitting in Life station to worry, but now with Lee sitting in a chair beside him wrapped in a blanket – this following a scene that William didn't care to remember about having to remain in bed when he felt fine – William was becoming concerned.  Kara was still out, and showing no signs of stirring.  He didn't know what to make of that.  Questions directed to the doctor were neatly sidestepped, giving them no answers.  The bottom line was that the man didn't know. 

Granted, her temperature had been lower than Lee's when they'd been found, but it had also come back up more quickly.  To William, that would indicate a more rapid recovery, and yet there Kara was, still completely away from them.  Lee had gone beyond worried.  He wouldn't leave her bedside, even to eat or sleep himself.  Reminders that he had been in a similar state only hours before didn't make any difference to his son; Lee wasn't leaving her.  William couldn't fault the young man, because he had felt the same way.  Lee was taking her recovery very personally, whether because he had been on command for the mission or for some deeper reason, William couldn't be sure.

Finally, after nearly thirty-six hours of medical care, the doctor agreed that things were not proceeding as he wanted.  William waited with Lee – exhausted beyond words or even coherent thought – while the doctor went to get a medication that would stimulate her body to wake.  William had no clue why he was so reluctant to use it, but that seemed to be the problem.

When Salik returned, two technicians accompanying him along with a full life-support cart, William began to get the idea that this was more dangerous than he had considered.  His look told the doctor that he was worried, and for a change words didn't have to be dragged from the physician.  "Stimulants are hard on the heart," he explained briefly.  "Especially when a system is already in shock from stress of any kind.  The rescue equipment is only a precaution."

With that, William and Lee were nudged out of the way and two technicians assisted the doctor in administering the medication.  The results weren't dramatic.  In fact, William wondered if they had done anything at all.  Yet still they waited… and waited.  Even with the medication, it appeared that Kara was going to be as stubborn in this as she was in everything else; despite the drug, she wasn't going to wake up until she was damned good and ready.  Glancing at the fear still filling his son's eyes, William said a quick prayer that she would do so soon… very soon.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 

_If she'd just move, just… anything_.

Lee Adama gave a sigh that was part fatigue and part frustration.  _Dammit, Kara.  Why in hell won't you just wake up and look at me?  _Suddenly the sight of hazel eyes seemed to be the most important thing in the world.  Living without that now was worse than sitting in the freezing darkness.  At least then he'd been able to hold her, feel her heartbeat against him, and he had known that neither of them was alone.

Was she alone, now? 

_Lords of Kobol, you heard her prayer.  Hear mine.  Give her back to me.  Let me know she's okay…_

It was the same involuntary thought that had skittered through his mind a hundred times in the last twelve hours.  That was the time during which he'd been really worried, the time when all their options were exhausted and they could only wait.  The stimulant, which had been Salik's only recourse to her extended unconsciousness, had done nothing.  It had put her in danger, yes – but it had done nothing helpful.  She was still sleeping, as though it had never been given.  Thankfully, it hadn't produced any side-effects either.

Lee hadn't really realized just how much life – how much movement and energy – Kara had radiated.  He'd always just taken for granted that she lived in fast-forward.  Now, seeing her form still, it was like seeing an extension of himself cut off.  She was quiet, calm, and deathly still.  Granted, her color was better than it had been and the mask was off her face, which helped her to look more like herself, but she was still far too quiet for his liking.

And that was the joke.  How many times had he wanted her to just shut up for fifteen seconds?  How many times had he wanted her to slow down long enough to think before she reacted?  How many times had he sat, just watching, entranced by the constant motion?  He would give any of those times just to see the flicker of an eyelid now.  He just wanted her to wake up. 

The doctor assured him – repeatedly – that she was only sleeping.  Salik had no reason to lie, but this didn't seem like any sleep that Lee had ever seen.  She didn't move, didn't turn over, and didn't make a sound.  This was yet another unnatural aspect to Kara – the silence.  She had always given a smart-ass remark to him or anyone else, and she could argue with anyone - and win - more than half the time.  She could definitely scream your ears off when you'd let her.  Even in sleep, he knew that she was rarely quiet.  He'd passed by her bunk more than once when she was off shift and he was going on, and there was always a snore, a mumble, or a slight hum of sound.  She just couldn't be quiet.  Zak had told him once that she didn't have an off switch.  Lee had believed his brother.  But at the moment, Kara was definitely not "on."

He had been awake for three days now, and Kara had yet to flutter an eyelash.  Doctor Salik had left her IV in, saying he had to do so until she was able to keep herself hydrated.  Lee had been threatened with the return of his own when he'd refused to go to the mess hall to eat, and then had wound up with one anyway when his temperature had begun to rise and his chest tightened.  Lee really couldn't even regret getting sick, because it kept the discussion of whether or not he could remain in Life Station to a minimum.  For the time being, the mild case of pneumonia – probably caused by the extended exposure to cold air and reduced oxygen – was enough to grant him IV antibiotics and a pass from work.  It wasn't that he wouldn't have written himself off the schedule anyway to stay by her side, but this had made it easier to explain.

The only real difficulty he'd run up against had been remaining in the room with her.  While they'd both been in less stable condition, they'd been kept in the open bay where medics and doctors were close by to watch.  Kara had been moved into her own room the same day that Lee had first lost his IV, and they'd tried to move him into one as well.  He had let them, but he hadn't stayed there.  At the time he'd thought he was well, if tired, and didn't need the bed.  Later he'd known that he needed one, but couldn't find it in him to leave her side.  She'd been with him through the worst that life had to offer, and he couldn't leave her to fight whatever this was – whatever was keeping her from them – alone.

"How is she?"

Lee didn't bother to look over his shoulder at his father.  The man had been a shadow since he'd first woken up in the bay.  At that time, Lee had been reassured by the commanding presence.  But as his temperature had risen, and Kara's condition hadn't changed, his father's constant presence had become almost a nuisance.  "The same," he finally said, certain that the older man wouldn't leave until he had his answers.

"And you?"

"The same," Lee repeated.  His temperature was controlled by the medications they'd given him, and the antibiotics would take care of any infection.  Breathing was easier, even if he had developed a slight cough.

Slowly, William Adama rounded the bed and took a place on Kara's other side.  Lee glanced up, caught the expression on his father's face, and immediately softened.  He might be a pain in the ass – checking up on him at every turn and nagging him to get some rest – but his father really did care about Kara.  The unnatural sleep was wearing as much on the eldest Adama as it was on him.  He was just worried; they all were.  There was no reason that Kara shouldn't be awake.  No reason they knew of, anyway.  At the very least she hadn't developed the same wet cough and low grade temperature that Lee was fighting, so she might have at least evaded that particular consequence from their little misadventure.

"Have you slept?" his father asked.

"She's done enough for the both of us," Lee replied, and he knew his voice was too sharp.  Hell, if their positions had been reversed Lee would likely be insisting that Kara get out and go to bed.  "When she tells me to leave, I'll do it," he said softly, pausing to cough and then catch his breath.  "Until then I'm here."

"We could have a cot brought in," his father said on a sigh.  As concessions went, it was a big one, but Lee still shook his head.  "Lee, you can't get better if you don't rest."

"I won't rest until she's okay," he said softly.

"She wouldn't want this," his father argued.

Lee said nothing at first, and then he chose his words carefully.  "She's never left me," he said carefully.  "Not when we lost Zak and I came apart, not when my ship gave out and I couldn't get home, and not when I thought the two of us would freeze to death on that ship.  I won't leave her now."

"Where would she go on that ship?" Adama asked.  He didn't comment on the other two comments Lee had made.

Lee just shook his head.  "It wasn't just her presence.  She talked to me, Dad.  She… kept me from going nuts in the dark.  I can't explain it, but she was _there_.  I can't leave her; it wouldn't be fair."

Lee watched his father take Kara's hand in his, running blunt fingers along the skin on either side of her IV.  "They're going to have to change this," he said absently.

Lee nodded.  He'd seen the puffy skin around the needle earlier and had reported it to Cassie.  She'd assured him that she would take care of it as soon as she finished her morning rounds.  Lee believed her.  Cass had taken damned good care of Kara in the last few days.  She was quick, competent, and she tolerated his presence without argument, which was more than either his father or his doctor had managed.  She gave him fair warning when she was going to do something that might expose Kara – like managing the catheter or bathing her – but other than that she let Lee hang around without argument.  Hell, she even asked if he needed anything while he was there.  He didn't know why she was so accepting when others were not, but she was.  Lee was grateful.  He was tired of arguing with everyone.

The feel of a hand on his back caused him to jump slightly, and that set off a slight bout of coughing.  He was getting really sick of this.  Turning his head, he saw Cassie standing behind him with a stethoscope in one hand and a simple smile.  He wondered for a moment if he could conjure people up by just thinking of them, and decided against it.  After all, every hope and prayer in the last few days hadn't brought Kara back.

"I just need to check your lungs," she said softly.

He submitted to the examination tolerantly if not willingly, breathing in deeply despite the discomfort when she asked.  When finished, she smiled again and gave his father an approving nod.  "He may not be listening, but he is recovering," she told the commander.  Then she turned her attention back to Lee.  "If you won't lie down, at least put your head down," she requested as she stuck an extra pillow at Kara's bedside.  "You don't need to watch me start an IV."

He wanted to argue.  He wanted to tell her that he didn't need the sleep, that needles didn't bother him, and that it was his responsibility to stay up and wait for Kara.  He did none of those things, instead he reached for Kara's hand, moved the pillow into a more comfortable position, then laid his head down on it. 

"How did you do that?" William Adama asked in a combination of disgust and frustration.  He'd been asking his son to do the same for the last day and a half, and the younger man didn't even seem to hear him.

"I don't ask for much," Cassie said simply as she pulled a cart up beside her and began to sort out what she would need to start the new IV.  "And I don't ask for what he can't give.  I try to find what's in between.  He won't leave her; that's a given, and it's not the problem.  The problem is that he needs to rest.  So you find a way to give one without taking away the other."  She flashed a smile at him.  "Don't tell me you are unfamiliar with the fine art of compromise."

He had to smile back.  Frankly, he hadn't even thought of that.  He was so used to just telling his men what to do – and seeing it done – that he simply demanded without further thought.  It hadn't even occurred to him that he was asking Lee for something he couldn't give.

"If Lee was the one who wouldn't wake up, could you leave?" Cassie asked softly.  She wasn't looking at him, but rather attending to her task of finding a new vein and preparing the site.  "Even if you were asked, or ordered?"

Judging by the amount of time he'd spent in Life station with Lee fully conscious, still worried because he couldn't get him to follow doctor's orders, he knew he didn't have to answer the question.  Cassie already knew.

So he turned his attention from the technician to Kara, still silent and unmoving in the bed.  Doctor Salik had told him that she would wake when she was ready, and not before.  He hadn't seemed overly concerned when the stimulant had not affected her, but then his manner was fairly guarded so William might have missed something.  There had to be a reason for the extended unconscious state.

"Have you considered that she'd just tired?" Cassie asked in an absent tone, clearly more intent on her job than the conversation.  "I mean, I don't think I've seen Lieutenant Thrace slow down for ten seconds since I've known her.  She probably just needs the sleep and her body knows it."

"Lee hasn't slowed down either," he commented.  "And he managed to wake up."

"Yes, well that's an entirely different form of stubborn.   I really think he just did it to check on her anyway."

William smiled at the tech who had finished her task and was setting the flow rate for Kara's fluids.  "You are an unusually observant woman," he remarked.  Cassie just smiled back at him.  "So, what's your opinion of the rumors going around.  You must have heard them."

"I hear everything," she admitted, pausing to look at him.  "I also watch and form my own opinions from what I see and hear first hand."

Despite himself, Adama was amused.  "And what do you see and hear?"

Cassie's eyes moved over the couple asleep at the bed, Kara lying quietly and Lee sitting at her bedside with one of his hands holding hers and the other beneath the pillow she'd given him.  They were both sound asleep, their breathing in rhythm with one another.  Neither looked ill, or even particularly concerned.  For all intents and purposes, they were sleeping comfortably.  "I see two people who care about one another," she said carefully.  "Maybe even more than they realize."  She turned her head back towards Adama.  "And I see a father who's worried about his children, even more than his ship or his reputation."

He couldn't meet the certainty in her eyes.  She did indeed see quite a lot.  "Observant," he finally admitted.

"They'll be okay," she told him, placing a gentle hand on his arm.  "Just give them some time, and your trust.  I've seen the scans, Commander.  There's nothing wrong with her, and he's recovering despite his ignoring what the doctor tells him."  She took a deep breath and looked up over his shoulder, most certainly not meeting his eyes.  This surprised him, because she was always very straightforward with him.  "He's put his life on hold for her, just the same as you have for him.  That's all.  And maybe… maybe the best way to show him how to trust is to go back to work.  You can't do anything for him here; none of us can.  Not any more than he can do something for her.  It's all about waiting now."  Her eyes came back to his with a snap.  "Waiting is always the hardest part, but it goes more quickly if we keep busy."

She was a medical technician – probably younger than either Kara or Lee – and yet her advice was sound.  There really wasn't anything he could do for Lee, except maybe to let him do what he needed to.  Meanwhile, his ship was in Tigh's hands, and while he trusted the man with his life – his crew – his ship – William Adama had responsibilities that he had ignored for the better part of a week.  From the moment he'd realized that his children were in danger, he'd placed the Galactica in Saul's competent hands and he had been a father.  Perhaps Cassie was right; maybe it was time to get back to work.

"You'll call me if there's any change?" he asked softly.  "In either of them?"

"Of course," se agreed.  "But I'm not worried.  Neither of them is alone right now."

Looking back to his children, he realized that she was right, on all counts.  "Take care of them for me," he said softly.

"Yes, Sir."

He paused them, looking at the young technician with blond hair, blue eyes, and more comprehension than even an old man such as himself could manage at the moment.  He'd always thought that maturity came with age, but now he had his doubts.  Maturity came with wisdom, and this girl had plenty of it.  So did Kara for that matter, and it was one reason he had always been drawn to her as much as an equal as the child she should be to him.  His son had it as well, and it had been gained by his own experience, and not from the benefit of his father's influence.  Generations were supposed to pass on their knowledge down from one to the next.  William Adama found it enlightening that for this one instance the knowledge was being passed upwards, rather than down.

"You're a bright woman," he told her softly.

She smiled at that, and then shocked him to the marrow of his bones by stepping forward, reaching up, and kissing him on the cheek in much the same way that Kara had always done.  "And you're a wonderful father," she told him.  Then, drawing back she added, "And commander."

Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment, but she gave him another smile before she turned and walked out of the small room.  He watched her, still stunned, but certainly not displeased.  It had been a long time since he'd heard either one of those compliments, and he hadn't realized just how much he'd needed it until it was done.

In more than a little annoyance, Kara shifted herself in the bed.  She had become addicted to the quiet, and the current disturbance was grating on her nerves.  Granted, a cough wasn't something that anyone could control, but normally her fellow pilots had the courtesy to sleep in Life Station rather than to keep everyone else awake in squadron quarters.

She heard it a couple more times before the aggravation got the best of her and she opened her eyes.  She would just have to help whoever it was to remember the art of courtesy; whether they liked it or not.  She hoped she didn't wind up in the brig for her trouble, but at least it would be quiet there.  She felt completely exhausted, and she needed her rest.  They all did.  You couldn't fight a war when you were half-awake.

The dim lights couldn't hide the unusual location she found herself in.  This was not squadron quarters.  She was not in her bed.  And it wasn't some anonymous pilot doing the coughing. 

It took a moment more for her to recognize that she was in Life Station, that Lee was the coughing individual beside her, and that she was hooked up to more tubes than she wanted to think about.  An IV was in her arm, and next to her leg… she wouldn't think about that right now.

Memory returned slowly, in a fuzzy and inconsistent manner.  Flashes of darkness punctuated by cold, the warmth of Lee's breath against her cheek, and a silence that was beyond anything she had ever experienced were the sensations that came to her first.  After the sensations, came the knowledge of what had happened.  She remembered the explosion then, and her panic.  Then she remembered huddling with Lee at the back of a cold ship while they waited to die.

Which apparently hadn't happened, she realized.  Lee was beside her, the blankets covering her were warm and comfortable, and her body was stretched out rather than cuddled up in Lee's arms.  They must have been rescued at some point; she couldn't remember.

But she could feel, and one feeling she had was significant warmth in her right hand.  She moved the fingers slightly in a gentle grasp, and was rewarded by Lee's squeezing her hand back.  His head moved on the pillow, turning from side to side as though he was reluctant to wake, and then he raised his head.  The smile that greeted her was a stunning surprise: relief, pleasure, and something more, which she couldn't define.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice deep and gravelly, then accented by a cough.  "How are you feeling?"

She considered that, even as she squeezed Lee's hand again.  For some reason, it felt good to have him there.  "Tired," she admitted, her voice coming out sounding rougher than his had.

He smiled at that.  "You've been asleep for three days," he told her with what sounded like exasperation, albeit feigned.  "How tired can you be?"

She moved carefully in the bed, shifting stiff muscles and carefully moving her IV trapped hand so she didn't cause herself pain, and lay on her side.  She watched Lee for a moment, not sure what she was looking for, but finding it.  "What happened?" she asked.

"Too long a story to go into," he admitted wryly.  "The condensed version is that they found us, towed us back, and we've been stuck here ever since."

"How long?"

He looked at her for a moment, then reached up to brush her bangs out of her eyes.  The gesture surprised her, as did the look in his eyes.  "It took them a couple of days to get us back.  Then you had your extended nap.  It's been about five days."

Her eyes widened in shock.  "You're kidding."

He shook his head and didn't say any more, but he didn't have to.  The gentle touch of his hand against her cheek said more than words could have.  He'd been worried.  She tried to think of something to reassure him, but before she could do so he turned head away and coughed.  He sounded awful.  "You okay?" she asked, concern rising.  He was sitting up, so she'd assumed he was fine.

"Apparently the cold and my lungs didn't get along very well," he admitted.  "Salik says it's pneumonia.  Getting better, though."

"If this is better, I don't want to know how it was before," she told him with a glare. 

"How do you feel?" he asked, his hand still at her cheek.  Lords, he must have been really worried.  Lee wasn't the touchy-feely type any more than she was.  No, they didn't withdraw from touching others, but neither did they seek it out.  This reaction from him seemed more concerning than his cough or her stiffness.

"Sore," she told him.  "Which makes sense if I've been stuck here for a few days.  I'm more worried about that cough.  Salik says you're okay?"

He gave a shrug.  "Rest," he told her as he gestured to the pillow she was now facing.  "And fluids," he added as he showed her the IV in his own hand, the one that had been touching her face.  She tried not to notice how cold her cheek felt as he did so.  "I'll be fine, Kara."

"So why do you look like you've been in a Viper crash?" she asked.

He gave another shrug.  "Tired, I guess," he admitted.  "And worried about you.  I woke up about three days ago, but you've been a little slower."

"Three days?"  She could hear the shock in her own voice.

He smiled at that.  "Tell me about it."

"So you've been hanging around all this time for me?"  She tried to muster up some of the sarcasm that she normally found so easily.  It wasn't so simple with the look on Lee's face.  It was hard to make a joke out of that type of friendship.

"You've never left me," he told her softly.  "Just returning the favor."

The hand holding hers gave a gentle squeeze.  "Thanks," she told him.  What else could she say?

He watched her for a while, blue eyes locked onto hers.  She had never realized just how blue they were, but then they rarely got this close.  He was only about a foot away from her.  Still, she didn't think eyes should be that bright in a room this dim.

"You're my best friend," he reminded her.

She nodded, but couldn't think of anything to add to that.

They sat in silence for a long while, just looking at one another.  It wasn't entirely comfortable, nor entirely uncomfortable.  It simply was."

Lee was the one to break the silence.  "I need to let them know you're awake," he told her with a smile.  "And they'll need to call my dad.  He's been here most of the time, too.  I'm not sure where he is now."

"My guess is CIC," she told him, relaxing into her own pillow.

"I'll go tell them you're up," Lee told her with a nod, moving to stand.

Later, she wouldn't be able to say why she didn't release his hand.  Maybe it was the warmth there, or even the security.  Hell, she would most likely roll it over in her mind for days afterwards, but would be no more sure than she was at that moment when he looked back at her in confusion.  Still, her fingers didn't release his.  She thought it was stupid, and childish, but Lee didn't argue.  Instead, he sat back down and squeezed her hand gently in a silent communication, which they were getting very good at.

'You okay?" he asked.

She didn't know how to answer that.  Physically, she felt fine.  But the rest of her wasn't so sure she wanted to be left alone, even for him to go someplace as close as the medical station she knew was outside the room.

"Yeah," she told him, confusion clear in her voice and mind.  "Just… stay.  Lords, that sounds dumb, but…"

"I'll stay," he told her softly.  She was relieved to be let off the hook.  She didn't want to try to explain what she didn't understand herself.  "Cassie's in here every few minutes it seems like; she'll check on you soon enough."

"Okay."  She closed her eyes for just a moment, still exhausted despite the knowledge that she had spent the last few days asleep, then opened them again.  "You look tired."

He gave a shrug, reaching back over to trace a finger across her forehead.  "A little.  Mostly glad you're okay."

"I'm tough," she informed him, but given her previous request for him to stay it seemed to be a statement that was absurd, even to her.

"I know," he assured her.

He kept one hand in hers, and left the other on her head, thumb playing with her hair, but he did put his head back down on the pillow.  "Tired?"

"Yeah."

She closed her eyes again, grateful that he didn't seem to require more of her, and resting if not actually sleeping.  She didn't feel any movement in Lee, but heard his faintly rattling breath become deeper and slower.  She knew without looking that he was going back to sleep.  That was best, she decided.  She was having enough trouble sorting out her own emotions without adding his to the mix.

She almost wanted to do the same, but it seemed that since her mind had awakened it wouldn't let itself shut back down.  She still had a slight chill in her from the memories, although Lee's presence did a great deal to alleviate that cold. 

He had stayed.  Even sick, as he clearly was, and definitely exhausted… Lee had stayed with her.  He hadn't left her alone, for which she was grateful.  She had the feeling that if she'd awoken in the room by herself, panic would have been her predominant reaction.  As it was, she had her answers as well as the comfort of a friend.

She could feel his hand in hers, his other hand against her hair.  It was as though he needed that same assurance of her presence that she did of his.  Dumb, she decided.  As stupid as the times she'd broken wireless silence on a long patrol just to hear his voice.  As useless as the times she'd dropped back in a formation to be sure his Viper was still there at her wing.  It was something she'd almost come to expect from herself, although she did her very best not to let it be noticed by the men in her squadron.  The last thing she needed to do was let them see a weakness.  She dealt with enough from them as it was.  Hell, the rumors lately were enough to test not only her patience, but also her self-made promise to try to keep herself out of trouble.  It wasn't that she particularly disliked the brig, but as Deputy CAG she felt that she needed to set some kind of example for the squad.

Some example, she thought now.  Lying here, holding onto Lee desperately and letting him do the same to her.  And it was desperation, she assured herself.  It couldn't be anything more.  It must not be anything more.  Words Lee had spoken in anger came back to her – _working her way through the Adama men_ – and she shuddered.  She knew he hadn't meant it, and he'd apologized so many times, but her instinct told her that he wasn't the only one with that thought.

How in hell did she feel about Lee, anyway?  He wasn't very much like Zak, which was her only base for comparison when it came to men, or love, or even affection.  It wasn't just his appearance, but temperament and strength.  Lee was like his father, both determined and exacting.  She knew where she stood with him.  He wasn't a joker, although he could certainly take one.  He wasn't one to encourage goofing off, although he allowed it.  No, he was more like his father than he was like Zak.  Lee's eyes were his mother's, as well as his skin tone, but nearly everything else was a reflection of his father.  She wondered if he had any idea at all how much he was like his dad.  The thought amused her.

"I haven't seen that in a while."

The near-whisper brought her eyes open.  Lee was still asleep, but his father was standing just behind him.  She was acutely conscious of where Lee's hands were, but she thought withdrawal would be more obvious than staying where she was.  "Sir," she said softly.  She didn't want to wake Lee.

"Does he know you're awake?" the commander asked.  She nodded slightly and he smiled.  "Good.  Do I need to let the doc know you're okay?"

She gave the same faint nod again, choosing it over speech.  Adama smiled again, the vaguely familiar look in his eye something she couldn't recognize as he looked at his son, and then turned to leave.

Kara took a deep breath, releasing it on a sigh.  So much alike, Kara thought.  So much in common; and they didn't even know it.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

 "You've got to be kidding!"

Kara just grinned up at him.  Apparently, she wasn't.  "Full Colors," she said, this time showing him her hand. 

He gave a grumble, but passed the small pile of candies – or as close as they had to it – towards her.  It was no different than it had always been.  Kara was lucky in cards to the point that it wasn't even fair.  It wasn't that Lee expected life to be fair, but it still rankled that he couldn't beat her at Pyramid if his life depended on it.  This hand, she had neither discarded nor taken any cards, which meant he had dealt her the hand.  He had been certain that she couldn't have much, which was why he'd met her ridiculously high bet.  A guy couldn't catch a break.

He coughed again, going for sympathy as much as to relieve the annoying pressure in his chest.  He'd done this enough that his ribs hurt, and yet it still wouldn't go away.  The one medication they had remaining that could ease the persistent cough was something he was allergic to, and while he hated the coughing he preferred to breathe with difficulty over not breathing at all.  Anaphylactic shock was not a fun way to die; he'd had enough of suffocation to last him a for a while.

"Still glad I'm awake?" she asked him with a wink.

"Yeah, right," he grumbled, searching his pocket for another of the sweets.  None; he was tapped out.  And candy was one of the few things that was truly rationed aboard the Galactica, as they were hard to come by.  He had some connections on the Celestia, having helped out an older couple with finding a lost relative who happened to be on the Galactica.  It hadn't been out of his way – he really hadn't thought anything of it at the time – but the couple were in the candy making business and where they found the raw ingredients he had no clue.  The result was great, though not what he'd grown up with.  If he could just find them some dairy for chocolate…

So he gratefully accepted the bag of sweets that they managed give him every time he did a routine check on the ship.  Normally there was enough to slip two of the candies into each of his pilots' lockers with quite a few left over.  They went over pretty well, and if no one knew where they came from then that was fine too.  He didn't put them in there for the credit, but to make a crappy job just a little less miserable.  From the snippets of conversation he'd heard on occasion, he'd been a success.

He found it funny that the little candies had become more of a trading commodity than cubits.  There was no use for money on the Galactica – there was nothing to buy – but candy on the other hand was rare and surprising.  The little treats found their way into card games, bets, and even gift packages.  But regardless of how many there were, there never seemed to be enough and Lee was finding that to be the case as he searched empty pockets once more with futile hope.

"Here," she said, tossing one of the sweets at him and hitting him squarely in the chest.  "If it'll stop that coughing you're welcome to it."

He stuck his tongue out at her, but didn't refuse the sweet.  She'd won more than a dozen in this hour of playing cards; she had them to spare.  Besides, they did help his throat.

"Another hand?" she asked hopefully.

"Not on your life," he returned.  "I have some good sense."

She grinned at him, that pure Kara smile that seemed to be infectious.  It had gotten her out of trouble more times than he could count, at least with him.  "C'mon," she insisted.  "One more game?"

"No," he told her firmly.

"Please?" she requested, and her voice was almost plaintive.

He might have broken, maybe, if his father hadn't walked in just them.  "Hey, Starbuck, what do you hear?"

That infectious smile moved from Lee to his father.  "Nothin' but the rain," she told him. 

His father rounded the bed and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.  "Grab your gun and bring in the cat," he muttered.

If possible, Kara's smile turned up a notch.  "Boom, boom, boom."

"I'm not even gonna ask," Lee told him, rolling his eyes, although he was curious.  He'd heard the greeting more than once – the well practiced by-play – and he did wonder about it.  Neither seemed to be forthcoming with offering an explanation, and he just didn't have it in him to ask them.

"I see you're feeling better," the older man said with a smile.

"Everyone gets awfully upset when I take a nap," she said with a slight blush.  "How long is it going to take for me to live this down?"

"Oh, this will be blackmail material for years to come," his father told her.  "But at least Salik kept you until this morning, so be quiet and enjoy it."

"Right," she muttered, and Lee had to laugh. 

"It's better than double shifts," Lee reminded her.

"For who?" she asked in a deadly serious voice, and that earned her a laugh from both Lee and his father.

Still, Lee liked that she was looking a bit more like herself.  She'd been in and out since waking, and just a little too quiet.  She seemed to come around when Cassie had brought in another bottle of antibiotics for his IV, and since then she'd been giving them all hell.  It was one of the reasons he'd bummed a deck of cards and talked Sharon – one of the few visitors they'd had – into raiding his locker for the bag of candy.  He hadn't planned on losing the whole thing, but it didn't really matter.  He was a lot more concerned with Kara looking like Kara than a few candies.

She was looking very much like herself just now.  Smiling up at his father, Lee felt a knot forming in his stomach that was almost like a physical thing.  He ignored it, and the confusion that came with it, in favor of just watching the two interact.  It wasn't the words that really caught his attention, but rather the comfort level.  He could tell that they really liked one another, and there was a mutual concern that Lee couldn't miss.  Kara was as worried about whether the eldest Adama had been getting enough rest – given his work and the time he'd sent in Life Station checking up on them – as his father was about her.  It was a sobering realization.

When his father had come in, Lee hadn't been surprised that he was around.  After all, they were two of his key pilots as well as his children.  It made sense.  It hadn't occurred to Lee that his dad had other responsibilities, which was really unlike him.  Usually, duty came first, and then family.  This time Lee had assumed the family, and had forgotten that his father had a job to do as well.

"Saul owes me a few favors," his father said in response to Kara's concern.

"You poor thing," she had responded.

"Be nice," Adama instructed with a mock glare.  "You know, he was as worried about the two of you as anyone else in CIC."

"Be still my heart," Kara tossed back blandly.

His father just laughed.  "I told you to be nice," he said again.  Then, turning his attention to Lee, "How are you feeling today?"

"Better," Lee said, and then undermined his words with a cough.  When his father's eyebrow went up, he felt compelled to add, "Really."

His dad didn't look like he believed a word of it.

"He's feeling well enough to lose at cards," Kara told Adama with a wink.  "He still can't win a hand to save his life."

"Hey!" Lee said, taking offense, regardless of having thought exactly that thing earlier.  He could win cards as well as the next person, just so long as that person wasn't Kara.  She had a luck that was absolutely unnatural.  Thankfully, he'd been on the receiving end of that luck on more than one occasion, and unless you were deliberately challenging her, the luck seemed to rub off on those around her.  It had saved his ass more than once.

"Hey, yourself," she told him.  "You lost."

"Most people do against you," he defended.

"He has you there," his father told Kara.  She looked awfully put out by the statement, but Lee was warmed by his father's defense, however minor.  It wasn't that he minded sharing his dad, but he had hated feeling almost left out.  With the two of them, Kara and his father seemed to have a strange, silent form of communication.  They just understood one another; it was no wonder half the crew had thought they were involved.  He had the same type of feelings for Kara; he didn't mind sharing his best friend, but he wanted to be a part of the conversation.  Lords, he felt like a little boy, pushed out of shape because two friends were getting along better with one another than with him.  Since when did he feel like a six-year-old?

With arms crossed over her chest and a distinctive glare, Lee almost laughed at her.  His father had the advantage of an excuse, and therefore a speedy retreat.  "I do need to get back up on CIC," he said simply.  "Just checking up on the two of you."

"We're fine, Dad," Lee assured him.

Adama waited a moment, nodded, and then kissed Kara on the top of her head before rounding the bed to exit.  Before leaving the room he paused at Lee's seat and placed a hand on his shoulder.  He didn't say anything, but then he didn't have to.  Sometimes a touch said a hell of a lot more than words, and the simple gesture did something for Lee that he didn't even know he needed.  He covered his father's hand briefly with his own, and then watched the elder man leave. 

By the time he returned his attention to Kara, whether by intent or not, she had closed her eyes and looked to be fast asleep.  He watched her for a moment, then moved the cards out of the way and plumped up the pillow that they'd been using as a card table.  Laying his head down, not touching her and yet close enough that he was reassured by the sound of her breathing, Lee slept.

Kara wasn't sure what it was that brought her awake.  Yes, there was noise around her, but not a lot.  She opened one eye, her somewhat limited glance going to the spot Lee had occupied for the last couple of days.  He was still there, still sleeping.  She wondered why he didn't just go lay down in his own room.  She was fine, and he'd seen that.  What more did he need?  Still, it wasn't much of a hardship to have him nearby.  She really did hate hospitals, and he made it seem a little less like she was in one.

The slight rustle struck her again, and she looked up at the doorway.  Her first instinct was to smile; visitors were always welcome, and a great way to keep her mind off both where she was and how bored she was getting.  Then a memory filtered through the casual acceptance and her smile faded.

The shaking of the controls.  The helplessness of the explosion.  The fear of freezing to death in the back of a disabled shuttle.  All of that had happened because of one thing, and one thing only… something had been wrong with the shuttle.  She didn't know what – oddly, she hadn't gotten around to asking – but something had been wrong with it and because of that both she and Lee had come very close to dying. 

Slowly, a bubble of fury rose within her as she looked at the man standing in the doorway to her room.  Tyrol.  Chief Petty Officer Galen Tyrol, Crew Chief.  The guy who fixed the birds, or who trained those who did.  He was the Lord of the flight deck – each and every plane his own, and he wasn't above telling them as much – so why in the hell had hers come apart?

"Come to see if you could finish us off?" she asked bitterly.

He jumped slightly, but whether at her tone or her accusation she wasn't sure.  She really didn't give a flying frak.

"I came to see how you're doing," he said softly.  "Sharon mentioned that you were awake."

"No thanks to you," she muttered.  "You can go now.  But I'll tell you this now, Chief.  The next time you try to kill me, you'd better make damned sure it sticks because I'm not going through this again."

He looked like she'd kicked him.  Good.  That was just about what she wanted to do.  If it weren't for the stupid tubes sticking out of her, she would have been on her feet and had him off his.  But she was effectively tied down, and he damned well knew it.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, still not entering the room.  At least he knew where he wasn't wanted.

Kara felt the movement beside her more than saw it, although Lee was positioned between her and the doorway.  "Kara?"

"Get out," she shouted, and this time her voice was just shy of a scream.  She tried not to realize how hysterical she was sounding.  She purely hated screaming women.

Tyrol stepped forward and Kara tensed.  She'd wanted a reason to hit him, and this was as good as any.  "I want to explain," he said quickly.  "We've torn the shuttle apart to figure out what went wrong, and there's not a thing out of place.  There's no reason for the explosion that occurred.  Electrical, fuel, and even oxygen systems are totally within specs."

"Yeah, right," she said, her voice still far louder than it should have been.  But she was angry – shaking with it – and she wasn't letting this man tell her that it had been her fault.  "Shuttles just blow up on short hops because they're old.  Okay – forgive me – how about you go find an old ship and take it out yourself.  Better yet, head on outside without the ship.  You can freeze to death or smother; it's a riot, trust me."

"We'll keep looking for the cause," Tyrol said quietly.  The expression of concern on his face was nearly enough to set her off again. 

"Just blame it on the pilot," she ground out.  "That's what mechanics always do.  I'm used to it."

"I don't think it was your fault," Tyrol said, his voice sounding pleading.

"Just get out," she told him again.  At the very least she wasn't yelling now."

"What did you find?"  Lee's voice surprised her.  She had been so tied up with Tyrol that she'd all but forgotten him.  "What systems haven't you checked?"

The chief shook his head.  "We've been over everything at least once," he admitted.  "Cally and I are taking it apart bolt by bolt, and we'll find it.  I swear it cleared the checks, Sir.  You know I wouldn't…"

"But you did," Kara said, her voice low and threatening.  Tubes or not, she was going to have to kill him.  "You sent us out there to die.  What if it had been a longer mission?  What if there'd been a little less oxygen or a little more heat?  What then?  Would you have even come after us?"

"Kara," Lee began, but she didn't let him get far.

"No, I want to hear this.  I want to know just why in hell he's releasing birds that blow apart!  I know the craft on this ship are old – hell, pretty much everything on the Galactica is old – but usually it at least works."

"I'm sorry I've bothered you," Tyrol said quietly, finally having the sense to back towards the door.  "I guess… never mind.  I'm sorry it happened.  It won't again."  He turned then, leaving her view.

"I'm not all that reassured," she yelled after him, finally going for the jugular.  "Frak, you were probably in the maintenance room with Sharon when some kid cleared that bird for flight.  Maybe if you concentrated on your work instead of your… urges… then maybe we'd have a few more pilots alive."

"Kara, stop," Lee told her, his hand covering the fist she'd involuntarily made.  "Quit before you say something else you don't mean."

"Who said I didn't mean it?" she asked, her eyes flashing to Lee's.  Even that deep blue couldn't ease the anger this time.  "You know just as well as I do that…"

"Their jobs have never been affected," Lee reminded her.  "Things go wrong, Kara.  It happens.  It's not fair, and it's not right, but it's the truth.  Yelling at the chief won't change it."

"We trust that deck crew every frakking day to keep us alive out there," she ground out.  "And you're telling me that it's okay that this guy can't find out why we nearly blew to Kobol and back?  I don't buy that.  Pilot error isn't an issue, Lee.  I was the pilot, and I know what I did and didn't do.  You were there.  If it isn't pilot error, then it's mechanical failure.  They're the only two reasons for a ship to blow."

Lee's grip tightened, his hand squeezing hers.  "Shut up, Kara," he told her softly.

"It's the truth," she said, and to her absolute mortification she found herself about an inch from tears.  She was just angry, she told herself.  She was just furious that she couldn't kill the bastard right then and there.  "He was so damned high and mighty about protecting the crew, and he sent us out there in a ship that couldn't make it two miles."

"Mistakes," Lee started, but her voice cut over his.

"Are not acceptable," she finished for him, whether it was what he'd planned to say or not.  "There's a war, Lee.  How many more people have to die before the Cylons even get a second shot at us?"

Lee shook his head, not agreeing with her, even as she realized that the object of her wrath was gone.  She didn't care.  She didn't want to care.  "You need to calm down," he told her in a voice that was just over a whisper.  It was something she wasn't used to.  Normally, Lee screamed back.  They argued yes, but rationalization wasn't among his usual techniques in dealing with her.  He knew better; Zak had taught him better.  Trying to reason just made her more furious.

Only she wasn't.  She saw understanding in those blue eyes that came from his being there with her through the worst of it.  He'd been in that shuttle too, and he wasn't placing blame.  He'd come as close to death, was still carrying an illness from it, and yet he had forgiven the crew who had let them down.

"I don't need to calm down," she told him, her voice coming down an octave.  "I just… Lee he…   I can't…"

One of his hands remained over her closed fist while the other stole around to the back of her head, pulling her towards him.  Lee leaned his forehead against hers, saying nothing.  She was still shaking, but not as much.  She was still angry, but logic was starting to inch through the fury.  "He wouldn't put us in harm's way," Lee reminded her.  "Hell, Kara you know that.  There isn't always someone to blame.  Some mechanical failures don't have warning signs, and they don't leave evidence behind.  Sometimes you just have to accept that there aren't any easy answers."

"It's his job to keep the ships intact," she said, and if he hadn't had a firm grip on the back of her head, she might have tried to back away.  But he did, and there was something reassuring about having him close, as though he was absorbing some of the anger, or at least diffusing it .  "Someone's always at fault."

"That ship was older than the Galactica," Lee told her.  "You know it.  She'd already served one war, and maybe there wasn't enough left to put together from the scraps.  But Kara, alienating our Crew Chief isn't the way to get things done; trust me on this, I know because I've done it."

"What can he do that's worse than what he already did," she muttered, her eyes finally closing as a wave of fatigue assaulted her.

"Kara, I want you to think, just for a second.  What could he possibly gain by taking out his most qualified pilots?  We're all that's left to defend the fleet.  He loves this ship and you know it.  He wouldn't put the Galactica at risk by compromising her pilots, and he wouldn't let a ship out into space if he didn't think it could fly.  He's not the enemy."

She tried to muster some more indignation, but she just didn't have the strength.  "We could have died out there," she reminded him.

"And we didn't, because _his_ crew came after us.  He didn't cause it, Kara.  He's doing his damnedest to fix it anyway, and to make sure it doesn't happen again."

The shaking had stopped, and she felt herself getting weak and fuzzy.  For just a moment, the weakness was stronger than she was, and it frightened her.  "Lee…"

"Rest," he told her, laying her back against the pillow and keeping his hand on hers.  "You're not thinking all that clearly.  I understand it, and I'm sure the chief will too, but if you hit him you'll be back in the brig."

"We could have died," she told him again, not sure why the thought was sticking in her head.  She'd been in life or death situations more times than she could count.  Hell, she'd faced enough for ten people in one day when the Cylons had attacked, but for some reason this felt worse.  It felt… personal.

"We didn't," Lee said again.

"But…"

"Kara, just sleep," he told her again.  She wanted to argue.  She wanted to rage against him, too.  But she couldn't find the will to do it.

So instead of fighting, she relaxed against the pillow, concentrating on the connection that Lee had maintained with his hand.  He was close, although no longer forehead to forehead.  She could hear him breathing.  She could feel his warmth.  And then she was asleep.

Lee sighed as he watched Kara finally surrender to sleep.  He thought he had a good idea of why she was so angry.  She always had taken on responsibility for everything around her, whether she could affect it or not.  It was why she had taken Zak's death so personally; it was why she was taking this to heart.

But just as she tended to blame herself, she also hated it.  This time she was pushing that anger off on Tyrol.  Yes, she had been the pilot, and if nothing was wrong with the shuttle than it had to be her.  Lee couldn't blame her for being upset.  It was all too close to the surface for both of them.  But he knew her and trusted her, and he was positive that she hadn't made a mistake.

"How did you do that?"

Lee turned at the quiet voice to see Cassie standing in the doorway where Tyrol had been.  "Do what?" he asked softly.  The last thing he wanted was to wake Kara back up when she was finally out.

"That," Cassie said as she gestured to Kara.  Walking into the room, she carried a bottle of fluid that he knew was for his own IV.  Great.  He understood why they had gone back to the glass bottles in Life Station – it was easier to sterilize glass than manufacture plastic – but it still made him feel like he was in the middle-ages.  "I've never seen her quit the screaming without putting someone in here."

Her words drew him back from the state of medicine in a rag tag fleet, and he gave a sheepish grin at Cassie's words.  "Yeah, well she's not exactly at her best."

Cassie raised her eyebrows to give Lee a doubting look as she switched one bottle out for the other.  "You haven't patched up her victims," Cassie told him.  "She can do some damage when she puts her mind to it."

"Sometimes she has reason," Lee said, rushing to Kara's defense.  She wasn't a bad person.  She hadn't had it easy coming through the academy, so she'd become a little tough along the way.  Life hadn't been all that kind to her, either.  What luck she had in cards didn't really carry over to all the rest of the areas of her life, so he figured she was entitled to a few rough edges.

"I'm sure she does," Cassie allowed.  "But I'd still rather see her calm down and think it through."

Lee nodded at that; he felt the same way.

"You're good with her," Cassie told him as she headed for the door.

Kara wasn't a daggit to be managed, and he wasn't sure he liked the insinuation that she was hard to handle.  He couldn't dispute it, but he didn't like it.  He looked over at where she was sleeping, and reached out to brush her bangs back out of her face.  He didn't know whether to thank Cassie or argue, so he decided just to ignore her.

"Did you need anything?" Cassie asked as she turned back to him.

Yeah, for her to get out.  It wasn't a very nice thought, though.  "A shower and shave," he said wistfully.  "I feel like I haven't had either in a week."

"You haven't," she told him with a grin.  Lee sighed.  It was hard to stay angry with the tech when she was so nice.  And she hadn't really been unkind to Kara; what she'd said was the truth.  He just didn't like it.

"What can we do about that?" he asked as he held up his arm to emphasize the IV.

"Tell you what, let's get that fluid into you and if you're up to it I'll lock the IV and wrap the site in plastic.  Then if you're careful, you can get a shower.

"And clothes?" he requested.

She watched him a moment, and her smile broadened.  "If you have to," she allowed.  "Although I kinda like the view with the gowns and robes."

Lee blushed and wondered whether or not to take her seriously.

"It's a joke," Cassie told him pointedly, probably reacting to his expression.  "Trust me, as many years as I've done this there's very little I haven't seen.  It's all old news.  A body is a body, if you know what I mean."

His cheeks felt even warmer, but he nodded as though he understood.  He didn't know what else to do to get her out of there.

True to her word, Cassie was back in half an hour to lock the IV, wrap and tape it, and he was on his way to his quarters to get clean.  Almost half-way there he nearly collided with Sharon as she came around a bend in the corridor.  The young woman didn't look all that friendly.

"Hey," he said by way of greeting.

She nodded and moved to walk around him, but didn't say a word.  It was quite a change from the chattering friend that had dropped off a bag of candy a couple of hours before.

"Sharon?"

The pilot sighed, then turned to face him.  "I just ran into the chief," she said simply.  "What in hell did she say to him?"

Lee closed his eyes, tired of playing the peacemaker for the day.  "Give her a break, Sharon.  She's had a rough week, and she's only been awake for a day.  She's angry, she doesn't have anyone to blame, and he was in the direct line of fire."

"That makes it okay?" Sharon asked as she stepped closer.  "You didn't see his face."  At least she was keeping her voice down; Lee didn't want the conversation carrying down the hallway.

"Yeah, I did," Lee told her.  "But you didn't see Kara's.  You know her, Sharon.  Does this sound anything at all like her?  She and the chief get along great."

Sharon took a deep breath and then let it out slowly.  "She needs to apologize," the woman said adamantly. 

"I'm sure she will, but can she get out of Life Station first?"

Sharon looked as though she wanted to say more, but wisely she kept her mouth shut.  He didn't want to hit her with a charge of insubordination, but he would do it to keep her from hassling Kara.  "She's had a rough week," Sharon finally said.  "But so has Galen.  He feels responsible enough without her placing the blame.  You know damned well how careful he is with his planes."

"That's why your gimbals are always off?" Lee asked innocently. 

She had the good grace to blush at the reminder.  "That's not fair."

"No," he agreed.  "It's not.  But neither is taking what she says now seriously.  She's still shaky, Sharon.  Give her some time.  She's sleeping now.  Let her.  She and the chief can battle this out when she's on her feet.  Then I'll step back, and you can do the same.  For now, you just keep him in his corner, and I'll keep Kara in hers.  Fair?"

"No," Sharon complained.  "But it's as close as we'll get."

He had to smile at that.  "Agreed."

Sharon looked like she wanted to say more, but was reluctant.  "What else?" Lee finally prodded.  "Let's get this cleared up now; hallway or not.  I need to get cleaned up and dressed so that I can get back before she threatens any more lives."

"Kara's furious," she commented.

He nodded his agreement.  He didn't think he needed to reinforce it verbally given their previous discussion.

"You're not," Sharon said simply.  "Why?"

He gave another sigh.  "No point," he said.  "I know the chief, and I know whatever caused this had to be outside his control.  But keep in mind, I've had most of a week to put things into perspective.  If he'd showed up at my bedside the day I woke up, or even while Kara was still out, I probably would have acted the same way.  First instinct is to assign blame, Sharon.  It's human nature.  Realizing that accidents happen – however careful we all are – takes some time to settle on.  I got here; she will too."

Sharon nodded, finally relaxing her confrontational posture.  Lee hadn't realized just how wound up she'd been until she had settled a bit.  "By the way, nice outfit."

"Thanks," he said dryly, reminding himself mentally that he was still adequately covered.  While the hospital gown might not do the job, the robe covered everything it was supposed to.

She finally grinned at him.  "Damn, I was hoping for a blush," she remarked. 

"Not likely," he said simply, although he was well aware that he'd done more than a little of that in his recent past.  Still, the circumstances were different.  "But it was a good attempt."

"Well, if I'm not going to tackle Starbuck in her room, I guess I should get up to the mess hall.  I need to eat before shift."

"Enjoy your meal," he told her.  "And when you see him, tell the chief I'm sorry.  He was in the wrong place at the wrong time; that's all it was."

"I'll tell him," she said softly.  "But he won't believe it.  Hell, that's why what she said upset him so much.  He was already blaming himself."

Lee nodded his understanding, but Sharon had already turned and was walking up the stairs towards the next turn in the corridor.  He supposed he would have to talk to the Chief himself.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Lee stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel as he did so.  At the very least the water was warm, and he felt a hell of a lot better clean.  He scrubbed himself with the cloth, then his hair as well, leaving it spiked and sticking every which way before he wrapped the towel around his waist.

The plastic wrapped around his medication site was annoying, but it was better than having an IV pole and tubing attached.  He slipped on clean underwear, shirts, and finally his pants.  He almost felt human again.  Almost.

He had slept most of the day before, regardless of being upright at Kara's bedside, but the coughing hadn't allowed it to become a sound sleep.  She had slept as well, which was a good thing.  The problems had started this morning when she'd awakened to feeling better and being in a bed.  Kara didn't do well with those two factors; he didn't think either of them did.

This morning when Salik had come to Life Station, Lee had been unceremoniously kicked out of Kara's room.  Annoying – hell yes – but it had been then when he'd developed the need for a shower and some clean clothes.  He hadn't bothered with either since he'd been brought back to the ship.  Gowns and robes were fine if you were sick, but Lee didn't feel that way; not anymore.

In fact, he felt pretty damned good.  While Kara had been asleep when he'd left her, most of the morning she'd been giving the doc a hard time.  She hadn't been quite her old, energetic self but she'd been close enough that he hadn't minded leaving her alone.  On the other hand, she was more moody than usual, so he had tried not to dawdle as he cleaned up.  He'd only been half kidding with the remark to Sharon that he needed to get back in case she decided to kill someone else.  Her emotions were even less predictable than usual, and that was saying something.

Cassie, on the other hand, had been more than predictable.  She had been pretty great, actually.  She'd been around most of the time since he'd been awake, and she was good about checking on both he and Kara without making him feel as though she were hovering.  She wasn't fussy, and she wasn't annoying.  And unlike the med tech he'd dated – had it been only a couple of weeks ago? – she didn't attempt to grope him at every opportunity.

And yet aside from being grateful for adequate care without fussing, Lee didn't feel a thing for Cassie.  Nothing.  It bothered him, because he really thought he should.  He'd had excuses for not getting tangled up with other women in the last six months, but he couldn't think of a single reason not to be interested in Cassie.  Still, he wasn't.  War or not, one would think a man should show some interest in a beautiful woman.  Shouldn't they?

So not being attracted to Cassie bothered him in a way that he couldn't quite define.  Before the war, Lee hadn't objected to female companionship.  In fact, he'd been a little less than discriminating in his younger years.  Most of the guys at the Academy had been the same.  Women seemed to like men in uniform, and there was no reason not to take advantage of that fact.  On the Galactica, everyone was in uniform so it really didn't matter.  There was also a ratio of about ten men for every woman, so most of the time he didn't worry about staying clear of the opposite sex.  The women had enough other men to pursue, and they didn't make any effort past an initial rebuff.  Usually.  But the fact that he wasn't interested _now_, following a life or death situation, was eating at him.

The only thing that bothered him more than feeling nothing for Cassie was feeling _something_ for Kara.  Something.  There was a lot of history between them, so he'd assumed that friendship was what they shared.  They were almost family after all – would have been if Zak had lived – so she was rather like a sister.  It made sense that he'd worry this way about a sister, but he was too honest to leave it at that.  Honesty had always been important to him; he saw no reason to lie to himself.

So Lee had begun putting some things together in his mind, and he wasn't sure how he felt about his conclusions.  First, there was his reaction to the rumors that she and his father had something going.  It had bothered him far more than it probably should have.  His father had a right to get involved with whomever he pleased, and rank really wasn't much of an issue since the decree that reproduction was everyone's primary responsibility.  Age probably shouldn't be an issue either, especially where having babies was concerned.  Women had to worry about a biological clock, but men didn't.  And yet it had bothered him.  He had been way beyond furious, saying things that were rude and cruel and completely inappropriate.  He didn't think he would have gone off that way if his father had been accused of involvement with anyone else – just Kara.

And if anyone else had taken a couple of days to wake after a rescue such as the one they'd experienced, Lee honestly doubted that he would have been worried.  He might have been concerned, but that would be the most of it.  With Kara, he'd been a wreck.  He'd had trouble eating, hadn't slept well, and couldn't have left her side if his life had depended on it.  It was terrifying, and the implications of it were even worse.  What in hell did he feel for Kara?

And that was the problem – he knew his answer.  He felt a lot; more than friendship, more than affection, and the feelings were not those of a brother.  So he knew what he didn't feel; and wasn't quite sure what he did, but might.  Having sorted that out, where did it put him?

Right back where he was before, he decided.  There was no way Kara felt the same way.  Sure, she'd backed him up more times than he could count, and she'd been a good friend to him when he hadn't had many in the squadron, but that was a long way from feeling something… different.  She was his best friend; how could he mess that up?

But he felt something for her that he hadn't felt for anyone else in longer than he could remember: honest attraction.  It wasn't just her appearance, although she was a delight to look at, but her energy and personality and yes, even her penchant for beating the crap out of others and profanity that he needed to look up in a dictionary to fully appreciate.  She was… fascinating, for lack of a better term.  She kept him on his toes.

She also challenged him professionally, and he liked that.  In all honesty, he couldn't say the same for anyone else in the squadron.  They weren't bad, but every pilot he was working with was second rate.  The Galactica's primary squads of pilots had been lost in the first wave of attacks, leaving only those who were injured, incarcerated, or otherwise out of the cockpit.  In recent months, he and Kara had been busting their butts to get pilots trained, but until they faced an attack they wouldn't know if they'd been successful or not.  Kara on the other hand could fly the pants off him.  He loved it.

Did he love her?

Lee came to a dead halt as he walked the corridor from squadron quarters to the Life Station.  Love?  Holy shit. 

He roused himself from the stupor that one simple word had put him in, aware that others were walking past and around him in the hallway.  What had begun as a simple mental curiosity as to why he wasn't attracted to a med tech had turned into something else entirely, and he was fairly sure his conclusions would earn him a black eye at the very least, and possibly a broken jaw to go with it.

Did he love Kara?  Hell, she was going to kill him.

Kara winced as Cassie took the IV out of her hand, applying a gauze pad where it had been to stop the bleeding.  "Hold that," the tech told her firmly as she let go of Kara's wrist to dispose of the remaining fluid and set the glass bottle on a nearby counter.  Kara did as she was told, holding pressure on the site and watching the tech move efficiently around the room.

"How many techs are in Life Station?" she asked abruptly.  Kara had only seen Cassie, but she knew there had to be more.

"Six," Cassie answered.  "But we try to assign one person to rooms, that way patients don't have to get used to a lot of faces.

"Makes sense," Kara muttered, peeking beneath the gauze to see that the wound was still seeping blood.

"I said hold that," Cassie said, closing her hand over Kara's to increase the pressure applied.

"Yes, Sir," Kara muttered.

Rather than getting a groan or an admonishment, the tech gave a laugh and put her hands on her hips as she regarded Kara.  "You really hate this, don't you?"

"This?"

"Getting stuck in bed; being told what to do."

Kara shrugged.  It wasn't her favorite; that was for damned sure.  "When can I get out of here?" she asked.

"As soon as you've urinated," Cassie answered.  "Your vitals have been stable and you're keeping down food and fluids, so all we need to do is be sure your plumbing is working alright."

Remembering the catheter they had removed, Kara winced involuntarily.  She'd had the horrible things on only a couple of occasions – once for an extended long patrol and once when she'd had her appendix taken out – but she hated them with a passion.  She was just glad it was out and that she would be leaving soon.

"Where's your other half?" Cassie asked as she cleared away the rest of her supplies and placed them on a nearby shelf.

"My what?"

Cassie turned and faced her with a grin that was just shy of challenging.  If it had been any closer, Kara might have hit her whether she'd liked the tech or not.  "Cute," Cassie said in a wry tone.  "The guy has been glued to your side since he woke up.  You can't tell me there's nothing happening there."  Cassie's head cocked to the side as she continued to look at Kara, who was unable to shut the mouth that had dropped open in absolute shock.  "Or can you?"

"What in hell are you talking about?" Kara said, and only the confusion she was feeling kept the anger at bay.  She wasn't used to accusations; most people had better sense than to make them around her.

Cassie's expression went from humorous to almost sad.  "You don't even know, do you?" she asked softly.

Anger was definitely edging in on her confusion.  "Know what?" she asked in a tone just shy of deadly.

Cassie shook her head, looked around, and then smiled again more gently.  "We couldn't get him to leave," she said softly as she gestured to the chair that Lee had used, still sitting beside the pillow Kara hadn't bothered to move.  "We asked, threatened… hell, Salik wanted to sedate him.  He just sat there and watched you.  He looked like he was worried you'd disappear if he wasn't looking at you.  Honey, that's over and above the duties of a CAG, even a good one."

Kara relaxed as comprehension dawned.  "We're friends," she told the tech, peeking under her gauze to see that the IV site had finally stopped bleeding.  "We have been for years."

The smile faded from Cassie's face, leaving only the sadness.  "That's more than friendship, Starbuck.  At least on his end of it."

"You're insane," she remarked as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

Cassie gave a shrug.  "Have it your way.  In any case, let me know when you've used the latrine, then we'll get you out of here."

Kara nodded as she watched the tech leave the room.  Her eyes settled on the pillow, now cold but still bearing the impression of Lee's head.  He'd stayed, she thought.  He had stayed, even when he shouldn't have.  Did that mean something?  Did she want it to?

Damn.  Kara almost sighed as she turned the thought over in her mind.  Adama men were never simple, that was for sure.  But Lee didn't show any of the signs that she was familiar with when it came to romantic interest.  Zak had been almost fawning, complementary, and most definitely affectionate.  Lee wasn't really any of those things.  And yet, could she really compare the two?  Lee's answer to a test was to study his ass off, while Zak would try to charm the questions out of the instructor.  Lee was known for keeping out of trouble, but Zak had been legendary for getting into it.  If they were so different in every other aspect, why should this be any different? 

And why was she even worried about what Cassie had said?  After all, the tech barely knew Lee; couldn't know Lee if she'd come to that summation.  Okay, so he'd been worried.  They had nearly died together; he'd had reason to be concerned.  And she _had_ been out for two days longer than he had been, which would have made her nuts if their situations were reversed.  She could understand his worry and she would have felt the same way, likely done the same things.

But that didn't mean she was in love with him.  It meant… they were close.  Not _that_ kind of close, but close enough to care.  Close enough to worry.

And yet Cassie's perceptions continued to eat at Kara.  Matters weren't helped when Lee arrived, looking and smelling a lot better than he had, even if the cough was still both annoying and persistent.  He had an odd look on his face, and he didn't say much when he came in beyond a hello and asking how she was, but she tried not to notice that.  What she couldn't ignore was that he looked absolutely everywhere except for at her, and she didn't think it had to do with her treatment of Tyrol.  Lee had seen her mad before – had even talked her down a couple of times – and it had never gotten to him before.  Finally, after fifteen minutes of his avoiding her glance, she broke.

"What's wrong with you?"

His eyes finally snapped to hers, but they didn't stay there and she could have sworn there was a slight redness to his features.  She wondered if he was running a fever again.  He'd said that was how they'd known to check his lungs for the pneumonia.  "Hmm?" he asked innocently.

Innocent… right.  "I'm over here," she remarked blandly.

Once more his eyes met hers only to be averted, and she was left with no more knowledge than she'd had before.  Damned Adama men were a pain in the ass, she thought to herself.  She had just enough sense not to say it aloud.  He was sick, she was still tired, and oddly she had no desire to fight with him.  It was rare, but she was just too damned tired.

So they sat in an uncomfortable silence until she asked him if he wanted to leave. 

"I'm fine," he told her.  "I'll stay until you're ready to go back to squadron. You said they were sending you back, right?"

"As soon as I pee," she agreed.  "Of course, they didn't bother with giving me anything more to drink, so it may be a while."

"You want something?" he asked.  Lee waiting on her… that was different.

"Not really," she admitted.  "Just out of here."

He nodded, but she didn't think he really understood.  She would have suggested a couple of hands of Pyramid to pass the time, but cards didn't sound all that inviting now.  So she closed her eyes and tried to rest, rather than pondering the mysteries of the male mind.

He didn't make any more sense half an hour later when she finally felt the need to use the facilities.  He called Cassie for her, and then left the room while she was taken to the head; annoying, really, as he could have walked her there himself.  It wasn't as though they hadn't seen one another in their skivvies before, and hospital robes covered more than underwear; co-ed living quarters were notorious for peeks here and there – it wasn't talked about, but everyone knew it happened.  Besides, she wasn't more than a little wobbly, and that was from being horizontal for too long.  Still, she was back in her bed and thoroughly annoyed before he reappeared.

"Where'd you go?" she asked before he could get through the doorway.  "I thought you were gonna take me to the bathroom."

He gave a shrug, blue eyes not on hers.  Frak, why couldn't he look at her?  "Not my job," he mumbled.  "Figured you'd pass out and they'd blame me."

She thought about that a moment, and then laughed.  She was taking all of this way too seriously.  Lee was just Lee, and he'd never made much sense.  Except that he had, and she didn't want to dwell on how much that change bothered her.  Then again, the last few days had been pretty rough on both of them.  Hell, she hadn't thought either of them would live to get to this point, so she decided to just slow down and quit jumping to conclusions.  "Sorry," she told him.  "I'm just… wired, I guess."

"You sure you're ready for squadron quarters?" he asked in concern.

She nodded adamantly.  "I hate this place," she muttered.  "I just want to get some real clothes and be in my own bed."

"That one's bigger than yours," he commented as he nodded to the bed she was sitting on.  "And you still aren't real steady.  I'm sure they'd let you stay another day if you were willing."

She shook her head at that.  "I really don't like hospitals," she told him.

"You ever gonna tell me why that is?" he asked.

"No," she said simply.  Thankfully he didn't press the issue, as she had no intention of telling her life's story.  Well, not again.  He knew most of it anyway, she decided.  Even though it had been the beginning of what she considered her childhood, memories of awakening in a hospital bed with strangers around her and her only family gone, pain so severe that no medication could relieve it, and confusion on top of everything else… She knew that it was all distorted by a child's mind, but it felt real just the same.  She hated hospitals, and that was that.

She glanced down at his arm where there was still some kind of device sticking out.  "They spring you, too?"

He nodded.  "Mostly.  I come back twice a day for medication," he explained as he showed her the site.  They need the beds for people who are really sick."  He grinned for a moment.  "Well, that and I've harassed poor Cassie until she's ready to kick me out of here."

She looked at it a moment, not really liking the thought of things sticking out of him, but then she'd just had a few such things removed from her own body so she imagined that she was more than a little biased against medicine at the moment.  "We'll, I'm free.  Salik says light duty for seventy-two hours, then I come back to get cleared."

Lee gave a wistful sigh as he walked beside her while they exited the Life Station.  He stayed close, but not touching.  He was just close enough to catch her should the need arise.  She supposed she should have checked in with the techs before leaving, but she really just wanted out of there.  She preferred Lee's company to theirs.  When she gave him a curious glance, he didn't need the question to know what she wanted to find out.  "I've got drugs for another week, and then they'll decide based on my lungs."  He looked pitiful at the thought.  "I'd rather just get in a Viper and go."

She nodded at that, understanding completely.  Being grounded was like death to a pilot, only worse.  She felt that way herself.

The walk to quarters wasn't entirely comfortable, despite Lee's presence, or maybe because of it.  She wasn't sure about some of the looks they got along the way, but assumed that most were a result of either the thing in his arm or her own attire of gown and robe.  She wished belatedly that she'd had Lee bring back some clothes for her so that she wasn't so damned conspicuous, but it was a little late to worry about that.

Still, she was feeling pretty good by the time they got to quarters.  It felt better to be up and moving, especially after so long on her back.  She wasn't used to being still, and it didn't settle well with her.  Even sick, she tended to keep on going until they made her stop, and thankfully she wasn't sick often.  The Life Station had been worse than the brig; at least there, she had been able to move around without getting glared at by the techs.

Stepping through the hatch into quarters was a revelation.  It was late morning, and most of second and third shift were still hanging around.  She must have seen twenty heads turn in their direction as Lee walked her through the hatch, and it was only then that she remembered how quickly gossip became an issue on the Galactica.  If things had been bad before, she didn't want to think about what they'd be now.  She and Lee had been alone together for days in space, and he'd stuck like glue in Life Station.  Rumors had flown with less provocation than that, and while initially that had been the intent of the mission – to divert attention from her and Lee's father – she wasn't sure she was happy with it being at this level.  The stares were no longer speculative or curious, but frankly accusing.

Swallowing her anger – after all, in their place she'd probably be thinking things as well – she let Lee walk her to her bunk.  "Thanks," she told him.  "I can get it from here."

"You need anything?" he asked quietly.  She'd seen his glance at their observers, but as usual he was completely unperturbed.  He didn't shake easily, as he'd proven earlier that morning.

"I'm fine," she assured him.  "But thanks for the escort."

"Hey Starbuck," a voice called from across the bay.  "Have a good trip?"

She closed her eyes.  It was nothing she hadn't dealt with a thousand times, but she wasn't really up to a full razzing by the pilots.  Oddly, it didn't bother her as much as some other things.  Granted, they were normally less vocal with their bad jokes,, but she knew about them just the same.  She'd dealt with them since the Academy; she'd ignore any insinuations now as always.

"Yeah," she called back to Aames.  "It was a barrel of laughs.  You should try it some time.  How about now?  We'll take you down to the kitchen and toss you in a freezer for a couple of days."

Most of the pilots around him laughed, but something glinted in his eye.  Oh frak, Kara thought.  She was going to have to hit him.  It wasn't lack of desire, but rather the lingering weakness that bothered her.  She hated to throw a punch with anything less than her best behind it.

"I don't know," he said, his tone lewd at best.  "There are ways to keep warm, even in space.  Especially when you're not alone."

She saw Lee tense beside her in her peripheral vision, but didn't take her eyes from Aames.  She didn't dare.  "Drop it," she said simply.

"Drop what?" he asked, almost innocently.  Shit.  She'd at least hoped he had the sense to wait until Lee was out of there to start the teasing.  She didn't mind taking him up on the fight he was asking for, but doing it in front of the CAG wasn't real bright.  Aames must have known that, and was using it to keep her in check.  He was a real candy-ass in a fight.

"Look, I'm tired and I need a shower," she told him firmly.  "If you want me to beat on you, can we at least wait until tomorrow.  Even I have sense enough not to throw a punch in front of the CAG."

The corner of Aames' mouth quirked up as he glanced at Lee, who was still standing tense beside her.  Frak, why wouldn't he just go so that she could take care of this?  "Like he'd send you to the brig," Aames said with a laugh.  "Right."

"Drop it," Lee said, repeating her words, and the tone of his voice was enough to silence any murmurs that were going around the room – most likely bets on whether or not she would hit the aggravating pilot.

"You gonna make me?" Aames asked.  "Is it an order, _Sir_?"

Kara didn't even see Lee move, but she saw the look of surprise on Aames face just before a fist connected with his left cheek, sending him sprawling to the deck.  Her eyes widened as she followed the fist back to Lee, who was rubbing his knuckles as though he'd broken a hand.  "Damn, I'd forgotten how much that hurt," he mumbled.

The look on his face and her shock with the situation might have made the turn of events amusing, but Aames chose that moment to try his luck with the CAG.  She could have told him that it wasn't a bright idea.  If Lee fought anything like Zak – which was likely as they'd learned on one another – then Aames was in for a surprise.  Kara took a step back out of the way, enjoying the opportunity to observe rather than participate.  It wouldn't occur to her until later just how out of character the reaction was for her; or how it might look that Lee was fighting her battles.  She had never really seen him tear into anyone, and at the moment she was just taking pleasure in the show.

Aames had picked himself up and run at Lee, doing his best to bring him down.  Lee didn't go.  Instead, he absorbed the shock of the attempted, waist-level tackle and used both hands joined together to land a vertical blow on his attacker's lower back.  Aames went down again.  Kara couldn't hold back her smile.

"Stay down," Lee advised.

"Why, you…"  Aames didn't finish his sentence, but he was on his feet again, and this time coming with an over-handed punch that would have done some damage if it had connected.  It didn't.  Lee diverted the hand, letting Aames own momentum send him back into the deck.  Kara winced; with that level of force, Aames had probably broken some bones in his hand.  She wasn't sorry – he deserved it – but she could sympathize.

Lee was just standing and glaring at the man, waiting for him to rise again.  Thankfully, Aames had some sense.  He didn't move.  Kara didn't even realize initially that the collision with the deck had knocked him out.  Lee turned his gaze to Kara then, and went back to rubbing his knuckles.  It was then that she noticed the blood trailing down his arm, dripping to the deck.  "Um, Lee…"

"What?" he asked, aggravated.  His adrenaline was still high from the fight.  If it had been her, she probably would have still been hitting the jerk, or at least giving a couple of kicks to finish the job.  Still, injuries weren't her forte.  She tended to inflict more damage than she absorbed.

"You're bleeding," she told him as she gestured to his arm.

His eyes widened as he looked at the place where his IV had been, and was now clearly gone.  Blood was flowing pretty steadily from it.  "Frak."  He put one hand over it, trying to stem the blood flow but succeeding only in making a mess of it. 

Kara shook her head and smiled.  She was more than used to patching herself up after brawls; this wasn't so different.  She walked to her locker, grabbed a shirt, and tossed it to him.  "Use that," she advised.

"Thanks," he said dryly, not sounding very grateful at all.

A slight commotion became audible closer to the hatch, and both Kara and Lee turned to see what it was.  It occurred to her then that she probably should have noticed the dead silence in the room.  She probably should have noticed that with twenty pilots looking on, someone was bound to rat out the CAG.  She probably should have realized that even Lee wasn't above discipline, and in a way what he had done was worse than her antics.  He had not only hit an officer, but a junior officer who was his responsibility.  She winced as she realized that this wouldn't go over any better than her beating on Tigh.

Two of the Galactica's marines stood in the doorway.  One had a weapon drawn, and the other was close behind.  Kara thought it was overkill.  They never pulled weapons on her; most of them were on a first name basis with her.  These two were Kevin and Archie, and they didn't have the same look of amusement that they carried when they towed her off to the brig.

"Put it away, guys," she told them as she checked on Lee's progress with the shirt.  It was too bloody to really see anything clearly beyond a rip in the skin.  She wondered where his little IV thing had gone.  "You're going to need stitches," she told him as she put the shirt back in place over the wound that was still flowing pretty freely.

"I don't think that's my only problem," he said, and his tone wasn't amused.

Glancing back to the marines, Kara realized that Kevin still had his weapon drawn.  "Kev, put it away," she told him.  "And call Life Station; they have a pickup to make."  With the last, she gestured to where Aames was lying on the floor.

"Captain Adama," Archie said in an authoritative voice.  "You'll need to come with us."

Lee sighed.  "Coming," he ground out.  Then he looked down at Aames, and Kara realized he really wasn't sorry.  It wasn't the heat of the moment, or the adrenaline of battle.  Lee was well and truly pissed at the pilot, even though he'd thrown the first punch himself.

"Lee?"

"Get dressed," he told her.  "Then get some rest.  Something tells me you'll be able to find me with no problem."

She grinned at that, remembering just how many times she'd had those same thoughts.  On the other hand, it seemed different with Lee on his way to the brig. 

"Oh, and can you call my dad?" he requested.  "I don't want him hearing this from the marines.  Hell, I don't want him hearing it at all but I don't think I'll get a choice."

She nodded again.  "Kev, he's bleeding pretty good," she called out to the marine who had taken up station next to Lee and still hadn't put the frakking gun away.  "Run him by Life Station first."

Kevin didn't say a word, but Archie turned and gave her a wink as the trio left the quarters.  She sighed, looking down at the trail of blood Lee had left over the floor, and only then giving in to the worry that had been edging its way into her mind.  She hoped Lee hadn't done any damage to himself in the fight.  Aames was just out, and he'd come to in due time.  She'd been in that boat herself a few times, although usually she gave rather than received the beating.  A couple of times she'd run up against someone who didn't mind hitting a woman, and had the advantages of height, weight, and speed.  It hadn't happened often, but it _had_ happened.

Rather than dealing with Aames still form, she turned to the small group of pilots who remained in the bay, watching the show with more than a little amusement.  These were probably the ones who had been betting on the fight's outcome.  "Okay, who's the narc?" she asked in a disgusted voice.

No one answered, but then she hadn't really expected anyone to admit it.  They had put the CAG in the brig; hell, they probably thought they deserved a prize.  But she swore that if she ever found out who it was, she would be sure they didn't consider doing it again.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 

William Adama raised his hand to indicate silence as he approached the brig's desk clerk.  Normally quiet, on this occasion the salute received was both silent and without extraneous movement.  Without words, the commander gestured to the cell release that was positioned beneath the guard's desk and received a smile.  He heard the click of the door before he was even in fully in the room.

He'd been here before.  Lords, he couldn't even count the number of times he'd come to this room to find out what Kara had done – from her perspective – and to try to talk her into an apology for her actions.  Once or twice he'd even been called into a headmaster's office to find out just what Zak had done – this time – to violate some rule or regulation.  It was something that he'd come to expect.  When you were responsible for someone, whether your troop or your child, you had to take the bad with the good.

But never had he seen Lee lying on a brig cot, one arm over his eyes to keep the bright lighting from bothering him, and the other laid carefully at his side with white bandages all to obvious against his darker skin.  Lee had never been a discipline problem.  Ever.  He knew every rule, and he followed them with a near-religious faithfulness.  He relied on the book, and was the embodiment of calm when those around him lost their way.  So what in hell was he doing in the brig?

Rather than saying anything, William opened the door of the cell and stepped through.  Lee still hadn't moved.  He finally got a response from his son when he took a seat at the edge of the cot.  It wasn't a startled response as he would have expected from the man he'd thought was sleeping, but rather a tired acknowledgement that he'd done wrong.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

William had to smile, and he responded with the same question that he'd had for either Kara or Zak in similar circumstances.  "That you did it, or that you got caught?"

Lee lifted his head to face him, blue eyes unusually quiet, and expression flat.  "Both," he said simply.  "Violence isn't the answer to anything.  I know that.  I screwed up.  And what's worse is that my team needs to be able to trust their CAG, not fear him.  I destroyed six months of work in a few blows.  So, yes, I'm sorry I did it."

"Then why did you do it?" he asked his son gently.  There was enough self-recrimination in his voice to manage anyone; William saw no reason to pile on more guilt when Lee had done such a spectacular job himself.

Lee took a deep breath, then put his head back down and returned his arm to his eyes as though he couldn't look at his father for the answer.  "Aames was hassling Kara.  She hadn't been in the room for five minutes, she looked like shit, and he wouldn't let up.  Normally I let her manage it herself, but she looked so damned tired that I stepped in.  He challenged, and I hit him.  That's it."

"What did Kara do?" William asked.  "Aside from paging me from CIC before the marines could report it to me.

Lee slid his arm up to his forehead and met his father's eyes again.  "Nothing," Lee admitted.  "She just… stood there."

"Did it bother her?"

Lee shrugged.  "I guess.  She told him to drop it; he didn't.  I made him."

William thought about that for a moment.  "She's a strong woman," he commented, almost idly.  "Very capable of managing her own battles, and she's been doing it for a long time."

"I know that," Lee muttered.  "I just wasn't thinking about it at the time.  I wasn't thinking at all."

"I know the feeling."  Lee gave him a questioning glance, then his father reached forward to trace the yellow shadow that had once been a bruise under his son's eye.  "When you care for someone, it's easy to be defensive," he said gently.

Lee shook his head.  "It wasn't what he said," Lee corrected.  "It was that she wasn't even arguing."

"Should she have?"  At Lee's intense look, William clarified.  "Would it have made any difference at all if she'd told him off, or hit him, or whatever?"

With a sigh, Lee admitted, "It never has before.  Hell, it never even got to me before.  We laughed it off."

"So what was different this time?"

Lee gave a sigh.  "This time it felt… personal."

"Why?"

"Because it was," Lee snapped back, and William had to smile at finally weeding through the fact to find the emotion beneath.  "She deserves better than that, and frak I'm almost ready to give her my room and take her bunk just so she doesn't have to deal with those creeps."

William smiled a moment longer.  "It would make a statement," William admitted.  "But I don't think it's the one you want to make, and it's certainly not entirely a statement that Kara would accept.  Are you implying that she can't take care of herself?"

"I'm saying that she's earned respect from every man and woman in that bay," Lee ground out.  "It's not a matter of rank or position, or even the fact that she's saved this ship more times than I can count.  It has to do with the fact that she'd die for any of them, and the best they give her back is talking behind her back, speculating about her sex life, and criticizing her choice of friends."  Lee lifted his head again to pin his father with an icy cold gaze.  "Not a damned person asked if she was okay.  No one asked what they could do to help, or if she needed anything, or if…  Dad, it was like they don't care anything about her.  I don't understand that.  I'm sorry; I don't.  I can't figure out why they don't care.  Hell, it's almost a surprise that they came after us!"

William placed a hand on his son's shoulder, encouraging him to lie back.  "First of all, Kara is very well liked, both in her squadron and outside it.  There were likely few offers to help because she would have snapped at anyone who made them.  She's exceptionally independent, and the best way to serve her needs is to do, rather than to ask.  She'll accept what's already done, but she won't agree if you offer to help her.  Remember the old saying; it's better to beg for forgiveness than ask permission."  Lee's eyes closed, but William went on.  "Second, Kara has been dishing out her own fair share of insinuation and joking since she's been aboard the Galactica.  Yes, she's a target now, but that just shows how well accepted she really is.  Her squad is comfortable harassing her, even when she's been sick.  Probably especially when she'd been sick, because it reassures her that she's okay and that life is normal, or getting there.  Finally, even if the insinuations were out of hand, she's capable – more than capable – of fending them off in her own way and her own time.  She's done it for years, and she's earned the right.  She doesn't need anyone to fight her battles for her, and doing so will only undermine the respect that she's worked for."

"And this explains why you hit me?" Lee asked bitterly.

William smiled at that, and then noted that his son wasn't looking at him and let the smile fade.  "That was a mistake," he admitted.  "On many counts, all of which I've listed, but more so because I'm your commanding officer as well as your father."  William rubbed his hands over his face as he searched for the words that he hadn't been able to find for the emotions that had hit him that night.  "The last place in the world I expected to hear condemnation was from you, so it took me off guard.  The remark was also unacceptably intended to hurt; not joke or tease, Lee – you went for the kill.  No, I shouldn't have done it, but in the same circumstances I'd likely do it again.  I've taught you to respect any woman more than that."

"Mom did," Lee said softly, but there was no accusation in the words, for which William was grateful.  "You weren't around enough to teach me anything except to love planes."

"Point taken," William granted.  "But the bottom line is that you knew better, and you did your best to hurt a dear friend."

"I know.  And I've tried…"

"You've succeeded in making it up to her," William interrupted.  "For that matter – knowing you – she didn't really take offense in the first place because she didn't believe you'd try to hurt her.  I didn't either, if it came to that, but still…"

"Hit first and think later," Lee said ruefully.  "We've been around her too long."

William laughed at the statement, not bothering to stress that he'd spent two more years in the woman's presence than his son had.

They were silent for a long while, and then Lee asked quietly, "How much trouble am I in?"

William couldn't hold back a sigh.  "That depends on how difficult Lieutenant Aames decides to be," he admitted.  "He's in Life Station for the moment, so I came here first.  He would lose a lot of standing with the squad if he admitted that his CAG – the quiet, by the book CAG – beat the daylights out of him.  On the other hand, getting you out of the lineup would put Starbuck in the position, and I don't think he'd want that happening any more than being labeled a loser in the fight.  As it is, you both drew blood, and we can probably convince him that it's in everyone's best interest to withhold charges and accept some extra duty as a penalty for violating regs.  I don't see this going to court martial any more than when any other two officers fight.  It's conduct unbecoming, yes, but it's a long way from treason.  As a matter of fact, if you'd both been of the same rank, or if he'd not been under your command, then we wouldn't be having this discussion at all.  He was insubordinate and you were inappropriate – those charges are just about equal.  Extra duties and probation will likely end the situation."

Lee let out a breath of clear relief.  "Beats the hell out of the Astral Queen," he muttered.

"Granted.  And I wasn't looking forward to using my rank to clean this up.  I would have," he reinforced, "Because I need my CAG.  You're too damned good at your job to lose because of some squadron stupidity."

Lee smiled at that, and the relief in his expression intensified before fading altogether into a serious, direct glare.  "You talked to Kara?" he asked.

"Briefly.  Long enough to find out what happened and where you were."

Lee nodded thoughtfully.  "How did she sound?" he asked tentatively.

"Furious," William said with a grin.  "Although I couldn't peg whether it was at you, at the situation, or because you'd been hauled off by the marines.  She was definitely angry though.  The majority of her profanity was directed at Lieutenant Aames, though, so I'd say that's a good sign."

Lee allowed himself a smile.  "She's not going to let me live this down," Lee said fervently.

"Why this time?"  William asked softly.  "Now, don't tell me it was because she wasn't at her best; I'm not buying it.  I can count on one hand the fights you've been in over the years, and all of them were with Zak over things that were very important.  This is more than unlike you.  What in hell did he say to her?"

"It's not important," Lee hedged.

"Son?"

Lee looked up at that, probably reacting to the knowledge that this was his father asking, not his commander.  "She told him to drop it," Lee said thoughtfully.  "He was saying something about how our conduct while freezing to death was… inappropriate.  She was tired, and she told him that, and she asked him to drop it.  Dad, you know her.  She loves a fight; if she was too tired to battle, then she had to be miserable.  I didn't plan to hit him; I just wanted him to leave her alone and let her get some rest.  So I told him to drop it, he pretty much said that I gave her special treatment, and when I asked him again to leave her alone he told me to make him."  Lee grinned.  "I did."

William Adama smiled.  "What happened on the shuttle?" he asked gently.  That appeared to be what had set Lee off, so it seemed a good place to start finding out where something had shifted.

"The engine blew," Lee said.  "She ran a diagnostic, figured we needed to go into shut-down mode and wait, and then we did."

"That was in the report," William said softly.  "What happened?"

Lee sighed.  "I'm not entirely sure.  We stayed by the back wall while it was warm, which wasn't long.  She slept a bit, and then we talked.  It was so cold, so we got close and covered up.  We… couldn't breath, couldn't get warm.  She just lay in my arms and shivered.  She kept me warm enough, but I couldn't do anything for her except hold her, and listen.  We were that way for hours, and then I woke up in Life station."

"And the first thing you did was ask about her," William said softly.

"I was in command," Lee told his father, but clearly he was averting his eyes to do so.  "She was my responsibility."

"By that definition, so was Lieutenant Aames," his father remarked.  "Try again."

Lee shook his head.  "I really wish I knew," he admitted.  "But somewhere in between holding her and thinking I was going to lose her…  Dad, it was like losing Zak or Mom, only this time I felt responsible for it.  It was like a part of me…"  He broke off, shaking his head.  "Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"When you… were you and Mom friends before you… I mean…"

"Before we were lovers?" his father finished.  With a blush on his cheeks, Lee nodded.  "Yes," he answered.  "Very good ones; and better than we were after we were married, but that was my fault.  I was on shore leave when we met and courted, and yes she was a dear friend by the time I proposed.  If she had known I would get my own command… Well, it doesn't matter.  She gave me you and Zak, so we must have done something right somewhere along the line."

Lee smiled at that.  "You miss her?"

William thought of his beautiful Iilya.  Blond, flowing hair, blue eyes, and that quirky smile that she'd passed on to their eldest son.  "More than the Colonies," he admitted.  "Even after the divorce, she was still there.  We still talked occasionally, and I knew she was just… there.  Some days the only way I make it through is to… pretend that she's just too busy to return a call.  I know that sounds silly, but…"

"I know," Lee said, his voice no louder than a whisper.  "I miss her too.  I didn't think anything could hurt as much as losing Zak, but…"

William nodded.  Words wouldn't express what they shared – the loss of two good people, the loss of half of their family – so he didn't bother to try.  "You need to get some rest," he finally said.  "I'll leave you here until I can talk to Aames, and we'll go from there."

"Thanks," Lee said softly.

"Anytime, Son."

And when William Adama left the cell, nodding to the guard to lock it behind him, he looked back to see that Lee had already rolled to his side, facing the wall, and was breathing deeply and evenly.  If he wasn't asleep, then he would be soon.  William thanked the guard with a smile, and left the brig with his heart lighter than it had been in a very long time.  Lee had been carrying enough strain in the past several weeks that a blowup was inevitable.  William was just glad that the circumstances weren't as hopeless as they could have been.

Kara shook her head as she watched the sleeping figure on her favorite cot.  With a malicious drift of thought, she wondered how he liked urinating with an audience, and it was all she could do not to snicker.  She had managed long ago to perfect the feat of doing so without anyone seeing a thing; it was all a matter of very careful arrangement of one's uniform.  It was the final indignity, but she'd even managed to beat that.  You had to, she reasoned, when the brig was your second home.

But this man had been here only from the opposite side of the bars, and he was notorious for being quite high and mighty about her incarcerations.  Granted, in recent years he'd found more humor in the situations than he had before, but he still left her with an impression that he was deeply disappointed with her lack of control.  It had both angered and injured her.  She could think of a hundred things she could say – none of them particularly polite – to drive the point home now that he was on the receiving end of some discipline.

But he was in here because of her, and that didn't sit well with her.  It wasn't that she'd needed his help; she could ignore Aames' insinuations or anyone else's, and she had done so on more occasions than she could count.  But he had stuck up for her in a way in which no one had since Zak, and that had been a hell of a long time ago.  No, she didn't need a champion, but she wasn't above accepting some help when she felt like watered down oatmeal.  And she'd felt about that bad.  Between the frozen days off immobility on the shuttle and subsequent days in a hospital bed with no more movement than what the staff provided to prevent bedsores, something as simple as walking across the room seemed like more effort than it was worth.  In fact, the thought of a bed located that close to a toilet looked particularly attractive; maybe she should have tried a swing at Aames…

Still, Kara had a duty.  It was her job to get on this man's nerves and to do it properly, because otherwise he'd start thinking he could fight every battle for her and things were bad enough without the squad thinking she was a helpless ninny.  She was their boss – she required their respect – and they couldn't follow orders if they looked past her to Lee every time she gave one.

"On your feet, Soldier!" she called out in her best drill instructor's voice – one she hadn't used since she'd been teaching at the academy.

Like the well-trained Colonial Serviceman he was, Lee jerked himself upright and to his feet, standing at attention to face her, before he even got his eyes open.  Once he did open those blue eyes, and manage to focus them on her, the expression on his face was beyond priceless.  "I have _so_ always wanted to do that," she said with a giggle.

He blinked a couple of times, then rubbed his eyes with his hands, making the white gauze wrapped around one arm quite visible.  It looked a lot better than the torn up mess of meat that she'd wrapped in one of her shirts back in the bay, but she still wondered how much damage had been done.   "Hey," he finally said, walking over to the bars to rest himself against them,  more than a little shaky.  She could relate.

"How you feeling?" she asked.

"Been better," he admitted.  "You?"

She gave a shrug.  Honesty wouldn't make him feel any better; she felt like crap.  Instead, she sidestepped the question by posing an observation.  "Y'know," she said casually.  "Hitting an inferior asshole gets you in as much trouble as hitting a superior asshole."

He downu at her, but his heart wasn't in it.  "You'd know," he threw back, but his head was resting against his arm.

"You okay?" she asked with honest concern.  Harassing her CAG was one thing, but kicking a man when he looked worse than she felt was quite another.

"Headache," he admitted.

She nodded her head, feeling a momentarily guilt for surprising him into waking so unceremoniously.  Not enough guilt, however, to force her into apologizing for the dig.  Heavens knew that he'd done worse to her over the year, and normally he followed it with a lecture and two or three conditions before he'd do a damned thing to help her out.  She wasn't going to be that bad; she had just wanted to see him jump.  "Anything I can do?" she finally asked.  She hated to see him in pain.

"Nope," he said in resignation.  "Dad's taking care of what he can.  Looks like I'll be mopping decks and cleaning out ovens for a while on my off-hours, probably right along side the auspicious Lieutenant.

Kara had to grin.  "Oh, that'll be priceless.  You'll either get along famously and team up against me, or you'll kill one another and the bodies will never be found!"

"Beats getting tossed in prison without a trial," he decided.  "Or a court-martial.  I really could have gotten into trouble for such a stupid stunt."

"He started it," Kara reminded it.

"Verbally," Lee said, meeting her through the bars.  "Not physically.  I swung first; that's the bottom line."

"He gave you reason," she reminded him, reaching through the bars almost unconsciously to grab one of his hands.  She didn't know why she felt the need to reassure him – and realized she would normally be much more inclined to harass him – but the look in his eyes bothered her.  While getting in trouble was her area of expertise, it was something he'd never done well.  "I told him to stop, and you did the same.  If he was too stupid to listen to both his CAG and Lead Pilot, then he deserved what he got."

"No one deserves to get hit," Lee muttered, his eyes averting much as they had when he'd been at her bedside in Life Station.

Rolling her eyes, she tightened her grip on his one hand and reached through the bars with her other to turn his face to hers.  "You're allowed to be human," she told him seriously.  "And you're not at your best right now.  Why don't you cut yourself some slack?"

He gave her almost half a smile.  Almost.  "Seems weird to have to doing the lecturing," he commented.

She grinned at that.  "Yeah, well it seems weird to be on this side of the bars.  You want some pointers on making the time pass?"

She shook his head, but didn't break eye contact, which for some reason she found to be a relief.  "I'm not up to pushups," he told her.  "Or sit-ups, or curls, or any of the other things you tend to do in here.  For the moment, sleeping is about as much as I can manage."

"That's actually what I was going to suggest," she told him with a grin.

He gave her a grin, albeit a tired one, and went to sit down on the bunk.  She would have been hurt at the implied rejection of her touch, but the fatigue in his features told her that there had been nothing personal in his action.  He just couldn't stand up any longer.  While he'd been awake far sooner following their misadventure, he hadn't moved around all that much more and he was probably as tired as she was.  Truthfully, he'd spent that extra time at her bedside, so he was probably even more exhausted.

"How bad is it in quarters?" he asked as he sat further up on the bed, put a worn down excuse for a pillow behind his back, and rested himself against it.

"The usual," she said, taking his cue to grab the chair against the far wall and taking a seat herself.  The aisle between the wall and the cells was fairly narrow, so it wasn't much of a reach.  Really, it was only about a four foot span in which guards could accompany less agreeable prisoners in relative security.  "They're talking, and making their remarks, but no one's really taking any of it seriously."

"Even after I went ballistic?" he asked.  The concern in his voice seemed more intense with this question.

"It's really no different," she said simply.  "Lee, they insinuated that we were sleeping together before, and we ignored it.  Then they started making remarks about me and your dad, which we didn't ignore and that got entirely out of hand.  Now it's back to the status quo.  We're back where we started, and I'm thinking it's a good thing.  If they want to pair me up with someone, at least it won't put a question mark on your reputation, I don't have to deal with the accusations of homosexuality, and the guys stop making their half-assed passes.  When all's said and done, it's probably a better scenario than if they stuck with the truth.  I can't work with the guys asking me out and getting all offended when I tell them no, and your dad can't work with half of CIC whispering behind his back.  You, on the other hand, can get away with just about anything.  You can date me, and any three other women, and that's all fine and good because you're a man.  It increases your status Lee, with me it decreases status.  Yeah, it's a double standard, but that's nothing new."

"They accused you of homosexuality?" He asked, his voice incredulous.

Leave it to Lee to latch onto the one sentence she'd spoken that she'd found uncomfortable.  "It's just one of many rumors, Lee.  I don't go out with anyone else, we deny I go out with you… so it's their logical assumption that I have something to hide.  And what's the most carefully hidden secret in military quarters?"

"That's sick," he muttered.

She grinned at that; so prim and proper.  "Lee, it's a valid lifestyle choice, and more than common under military conditions when there isn't exactly a balance between men and women.  I don't reinforce the notion, but it doesn't offend me either."

He shook his head.  "Does any of this offend you?" he asked, and she could have sworn that there was anger in his voice.

"Well, I'm not thrilled that the Adama clan has taken over the defense of my dignity," she admitted.  "I mean, first your dad clobbers you, and then you beat on Aames.  I've been defending my own honor for a very long time.  I'm not sure why you think that all of a sudden it's your job."

He shrugged, looking uncomfortable, but didn't reply.

For a moment Kara closed her eyes in pure frustration.  She could get so much more out of Lee if she could just touch him.  She could make him look at her, take a hand in hers, something.  With some physical connection – his choice or not – she felt that she could read his emotions far more clearly.  It surprised her as she'd never been one to like getting close.  Even with Zak, whom she'd been madly in love with, she'd found hugs nearly confining and the hand-holding childish.  It was easier to touch their father, reassuring him with a pat on the arm or a kiss to the cheek, and she'd become used to doing so.  She supposed it was because he was older; either that or she was growing up.  Her dislike of touch had stemmed from a childhood where she had been easily restrained, relocated, or just knocked around a bit.  As a child, she never had come to really trust anyone who wanted their hands on her.  Zak had helped her work through a lot of that because he was so damned tactile, and she hadn't had it in her to deny him the privilege.  Lee was less touchy – more formal – and that suited her well.  His father was the same.  But at this moment, she would have given just about anything to have access to the button that would allow her into that cursed cell.  Hell, it was nearly her home; she should at least have a key.

"Lee?"

"Hmm?" he returned, but she could see him lying down, looking steadfastly at the ceiling, and not really listening to her comments.  Damn, but she hated the stupid bars! 

"Do you have a problem with… you know?  What goes on in quarters?"

He was quiet for a long time.  Too long.  "I don't think about it much," he finally admitted.  "I mean, I know it happens, but it's kind of like your parents having sex.  It has to happen, but it's something you don't dwell on because it's damned weird."

"So you're saying you don't want a list of who's with whom in quarters," she said in a sardonic tone.

"Lords, no," he replied adamantly.

She laughed at that.  Lee could be so old fashioned – so Caprican.  Absently she wondered where she was from.  She remembered enough travelling before she really had a memory that she wasn't entirely sure if she'd been native to the planet or not.  It was unlikely, given her hair and eye color as well as her build, but she liked to claim the planet if for no other reason than she had grown up there.  Capricans were notoriously traditional – in almost every area of life.  It was also the colony with the fewest prisons, the hardest penalties, and the lowest crime rates.  It had been a wonderful place to grow up.  More than once, she'd thanked the Lords that before her father went off that last, horrible time he had found the sense to hole-up on Caprica.

"That's not a happy thought," he remarked.

Kara's eyes flashed up to Lee's where he had sat back up and was looking at her urgently.  "It wasn't unhappy either," she told him.  "Just remembering.  You can lay down; get some sleep."

"What about you?" he asked as he looked over at the guard who glanced at them periodically, but in general was ignoring them.

She shrugged.  "Hell, this is home," she muttered, tipping the chair back to rest her head against the wall and her feet on the bars.  "I'm more comfortable here than in quarters."

Lee grinned, and then his face became serious.  "I won't be there for a while," he said softly.  "You can take my office if you want.  You know there's a bunk in back, and it's quiet.  Kennings is working the CAG position while we're out of commission, but he likes his CIC desk better."

She looked at him for a moment, considering a smart-assed remark at the offer, and then remembered how he'd reacted the last time she'd thrown such a gesture back in his face.  "Thanks," she told him honestly.  "I may just take you up on that in a while.  For now, I'm comfortable here so long as you don't mind the company."

He shrugged, then spun around on the bed and lay back down.  "Suit yourself," he told her.  "Entrance code is 4837."

Kara grinned at the number.  "Zak's ID code," she murmured.

He shrugged again.  "It's easy enough to remember, and not as obvious as my own.  I figured you could keep it in that mind of yours."

Kara was touched, both that the offer still stood and that he'd chosen a security code that she would know intimately.  It was a number she could never forget; Lee had known that.  Had he always planned to loan her his space?  If so, she'd offended him far more the last time he'd offered than she knew.

"Go to sleep, Lee," she told him.  "Once you're out, I'll go lay down.  This place is a little intimidating if you aren't used to it.  Sometimes having a friend nearby makes it easier to sleep."

He nodded.  "Thanks, Kara," he told her.

She just smiled; his easy acceptance of her presence soothing something inside her that she hadn't known was irritated.  She would wait until he was asleep, then she just might take him up on the offer of a quiet room and a soft bed.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 

Lee was grateful that Kara had finally gone back to quarters, or possibly to his room although she hadn't given him a definite answer when he'd offered it.  Still, she hadn't belittled the idea or made a joke, so maybe she at least had taken it into her consideration.  For the sake of feeling better, he chose to think so.

He'd been sleeping – on and off – for hours.  How many hours he had no clue, because he hadn't really checked the time when he'd come in.  He had been taken to Life Station first, and the mess of his arm had been cleaned up.  Cassie had glared at him when she found out how he'd lost the IV, and then she'd put in three stitches to hold together the torn skin and had bandaged it in record time.  She'd been silent for a very long time as she searched his other arm for a vein, becoming progressively more annoyed as she did so.

"Problem?"

"For such a decent sized man, you have the tiniest veins," she had mumbled.  She had finally gone for a hand, just below his previous IV and its insertion had hurt to hell and back.  He thought she'd made it so deliberately.  Then she'd taped it ridiculously and had wrapped the entire thing in the same gauze she'd used higher on the arm.  She was not a happy person.

"I'm sorry," he said tentatively.

"So am I," she'd answered, her voice just shy of a growl.  "But I get enough frakking business in this place without our officers beating on one another.  It's childish and useless, and I'm sick of it."

"You get that much?" he had asked, surprised.

Cassie had sighed.  "Enough," she had muttered.  "It's not as bad here as my last assignment.  At least you folks try to work together."  Then, glaring once more, "But you don't always manage it, do you."

"He was baiting Kara," Lee had tried to explain.

"Words," she announced unceremoniously.  "Captain Apollo, they are just words.  You've used actions, and violent ones at that.  I see nothing that makes such behavior appropriate.  I've told it to Starbuck on a dozen occasions, and I'll tell you the same thing.  Yell at one another, beat on your pillows, or scream into a launch tube – but keep your hands off one another.  I don't have the time or patience for this!"

"Yes, Sir," he'd answered, far more chastened than he had been as a child when his mother had scolded him following an altercation with Zak.

Cassie had taken a deep breath, held it, and released it slowly.  "I'm sorry," she had said softly.  "I spent almost twenty years working on Gemon near the Colonial Marine training facility.  If I had a cubit for every stitch I'd put in, then I could have retired ten years ago.  Useless, every damned one of those fights.  We buried more than one man due to brain damage, broken necks, and even a few who bled to death before we could get to them.  If I never have to deal with that again, I'll be very pleased.

"As a rule, the Galactica has been far more civilized, and that's why I've stayed for so long.  And yes, I know that war changes things, but I will not see my men… my friends," she emphasized with a glare, "Kill one another because of some pilot's sense of humor, or another's lack thereof."

"How long have you been on the Galactica," he'd asked, hoping desperately to divert her from the tirade she was beginning.  If she was anything like his mother, and he was willing to bet that she was, once she got going it would be hell to get her to calm down.  His mother had not been driven to anger very often, but when she had…

"Nearly ten years," Cassie had answered, breaking into his thoughts.

He had looked at her sharply, stunned.  "Twenty years on Gemon, and ten here.  You can't be thirty years old!"

"Flattery will get you another piece of tape," she'd told him with a grin.  "I'm an Arian.  We age slightly differently; more slowly.  While Capricans have a life expectancy of eighty to one-hundred years, most Arians live to nearly two-hundred.  We've always been told it had something to do with the Arian suns and cellular degeneration, complete lack of radiation and all.  For me it's just a fact of life."

"So you are…"

"Fifty-two," she admitted reluctantly.  "Although if you tell anyone, I'll deny it staunchly.  "There weren't many who survived the war, and those of us who did will likely revert to the same aging that everyone else has when the gene pool is distributed in the absence of our suns.  It'll likely be the same with the Virgons, who lived with intensified gravity and are as well built as animals, and the Picons who are almost willowy in build.  No one is certain, because there was so much traverse between the Colonies that pure anything is a rarity; the gene pool is already a bit clouded.  In any case, I'm in no mood to alienate my shipmates or deal with inappropriate envy from every woman on this ship.  Age is highly overrated.  Experience is exhausting."

Lee had smiled then, finally realizing how Cassie managed to act like his mother and still smile like a school-girl.  Well, he smiled at least until his marine escorts had taken an arm each – carefully avoiding the white bandaged areas according to Cassie's orders – and had marched him to the brig.  At the time, he'd been too tired to think.  He had lain down and slept.  His father had awoken him at some point, and later Kara, and the rest was a fuzz of waking and sleeping on the narrow cot in the bright lighting.  He could have asked for them to dim the lights, but just being in there was embarrassing; he didn't want to draw further attention to himself by asking for favors.

But now, despite not being rested, neither was Lee tired.  He was… alert.  And he was beginning to think about the serious nature of what he'd done.  At the time, it had been a matter of defending Kara, regardless of whether or not she had needed it.  He wasn't quite sure what his father would be able to do to get him out of the situation, nor was he sure that his father should even attempt it.  He had done the wrong thing, and in retrospect he hadn't even done it for the right reasons.  He hadn't done it because Kara couldn't defend herself; he'd done it because she _wasn't_ defending herself.  She was a good person, an amazing pilot, a terrific friend, and she deserved a hell of a lot more than gossip and innuendo from the pilots who were supposed to be her friends.  No one had been sticking up for her.  No one.  And yes, his father's explanation that she likely wouldn't have welcomed such defense was valid, but it still stuck lee as cold and cruel.

But none of these things were new – not to either of them.  On the other hand, the unfairness of it had never bothered him overmuch before.  What had shifted?  He'd already come to a frightening realization that his feelings for her were no longer simple, but if his current predicament was any indication, he needed to get things back on an even keel and soon.

But Kara hadn't seemed mad at him; not exactly.  She'd been a little exasperated, but then he knew that feeling.  From the outside, it was almost always easy to look at a fight and see a path that could have led to a better, less violent conclusion.  Normally even if one was involved directly in the altercation, hindsight showed more alternatives and less necessity towards violence.  At the moment, neither was showing him a way that had been as satisfying as planting his fist into the side of Aames' face.  Childish?  Hell yes.  So much so that he might have to go easier on Kara the next time she got herself into a similar mess.

Which brought his thoughts back around to the woman who had inadvertently started the whole mess without even doing anything.  She had just walked into the room, and criticism had hit her with no warning and less cause.  Had they always treated her so badly there?  Was it just his presence that had made the situation so obvious and intolerable?  Had she fought with these same issues since she'd been aboard the Galactica?

He had no way of knowing, because Kara wouldn't give him a straight answer.  The woman truly did fight her own battles, and anyone else in quarters would be likely to play down the hassles that she'd dealt with.  Anyone except a friend, that was.  Lee needed to find one of Kara's friends and get the real scoop.  But who was a friend to the hotshot pilot with a sewer-mouth and a killer right-hook?  No one came immediately to mind.

He knew Kara had friends.  There had been a steady stream of heads which had popped through the doorway while she had slept in Life station, yet none of them had braved either her waking or his presence to say a word.  But they'd come to check on her, and that had to mean they cared, didn't it?  He wracked his mind to find anyone whom Kara tended to spend time with – outside of himself of course, and his father – on her off hours.  The only he could recall was general card games in the ready room and eating at the big table with most of the shift in attendance.  He couldn't think of anyone specific who appeared to mean anything to her beyond basic, borderline friendship.

He knew the difference, because other than Kara he really didn't have any friends of his own.  You couldn't befriend those you were responsible for, and he supposed as Lead Pilot/Deputy CAG she had those same issues that he and his father did.  But she hadn't always been in a leadership position, and she had to have some friends remaining from her two years aboard prior to the war.  His father had Tigh as a sounding board and confidant, and Lee himself had Kara.  That left Kara with… well, with him.  And Lee wasn't one to show up often in squadron quarters, because he didn't want his pilots to feel they were being watched.  He wanted them to have his trust, and know they had it.  It was one way he could encourage them without words.  His father had taught him as much, and all the leadership manuals at the academy had warned against micro-management and destroying morale with an overbearing presence.  But wasn't it worse to not know what your men were doing to one another when your back was turned?

"You're awake."

Lee turned his head to see Colonel Tigh walking into the brig.  Great, he thought.  Just what he really needed.  Lee was here for defending the one person that Tigh couldn't stand – although why this was so, Lee couldn't fathom.  Kara had saved all their asses more than once, and as a former Viper pilot himself, Lee would have thought that Tigh could at least respect her skill if not enjoy her personality.

"For the moment," Lee admitted.  "How are things upstairs?"

"Quiet for a change," Tigh answered, taking the chair that Kara had used and tilting it back on its legs.  Lee suppressed a smile at the action.  "Your dad just came on duty, and he asked me to look in on you; see if you need anything."

"A pass out of here," Lee quipped.  "Or a damned good lawyer."

"There won't be any formal charges," the colonel said softly.  "It's your first fight, you were provoked, and Aames spends more time here than your girlfriend does."

Lee's head snapped sideways at that, giving the older man a glare that clearly said "hands off."

"You know what I mean," the officer clarified.  "Thrace is disrespectful and a loose canon, but Aames is an idiot.  Standing side by side, it's pretty clear who belongs behind bars.  She'll smack someone if she's provoked," he added as he ran fingers across his face as though he could still feel the shiner she'd given him months before, "But she doesn't go after the CAG when he's been out of Life Station less than a day.  So the question may be whether you want to press charges against him."

Lee's eyebrows lifted in surprise, and it must have looked damned funny if Tigh's laughter was any indication.  "I'm not kidding," the man assured him.  "He attacked a superior officer in his direct line of command, and he did it in front of witnesses who swear you told him to stay down."

"That was after I'd floored him the first time," Lee mumbled.  "I threw the first punch."

"From what I hear it was for a good reason," Tigh said with a shrug.  "He was insubordinate in front of half the squad.  You couldn't just stand there and take it, and calling the marines in wouldn't have done a thing for your standing with the squad.  You handled it like a man, and then you took the consequences as they were given.  From what I see, that's making the best of a shitty situation."

Lee hadn't thought of it that way; at all.

"You probably also kept your deputy out of this place," Tigh added as he glanced around the room and placed one foot on the cell bars to balance himself in the tilted chair.  "She's notorious for hitting first and asking questions later, and her record wouldn't have been so easy to justify as yours."

"The insults were against her," Lee said softly.  "It would have been her right

to hit him more than it was mine."

Tigh shrugged.  "Maybe, but it would have gotten her into a hell of a lot of trouble.  She has a history of beating on those around her; you don't."

"Why?" Lee wondered aloud.

Tigh gave him a quizzical look  "Why what?"

"Why does she beat on those around her?  I've never seen her hit anyone without provocation.  From the way I hear it, even the day that she hit you a table had already been thrown at her."

"I wasn't at my best," Tight admitted.  "And she can do some baiting of her own when she has the opportunity."

Lee grinned.  "She has a knack for hitting where it hurts the most, whether she lifts a hand against you or not."

"And you put up with this why?"  Tigh asked.  "I know your father has a blind spot with her, but I always thought you were the practical one."

Lee's smile softened.  "She may make life a living hell on occasion, but she'll also go to the wall for you if you deserve it.  She's the best pilot I've ever seen, and she… puts up with me.  It's not a small task.  After we lost Zak, I was at my absolute worst – so bad that everyone stayed clear.  She showed up on my doorstep with home-baked cookies and a deck of cards.  Then she lost game after game until I was sick from the cookies and so tired that I could sleep for the first time in a week.  Her heart's as strong as her temper; she just doesn't always show it."

"Sounds like a different woman from the bitch who threw a genuine apology in my face and told me I was a weak drunk."

Lee looked at him for a moment.  "Were you?"

For just a moment, Tigh looked like he'd take offense at the comment.  Lee really didn't care.  Kara would defend him to the grave; he could do no less for her.

"Maybe I was," the colonel admitted.  "But that doesn't make it a lieutenant's place to point it out."

"I don't care if she's an ensign," Lee offered.  "She has a right to be honest.  Was it on the record?"

Tigh looked away.  "No."

"Then no harm was done," Lee said with another shrug.  "Except maybe to your pride, and if what she said was the truth it probably got you thinking.  If she'd made the accusation official, you would have been answering charges yourself.  And as a subordinate, it would be well within her rights to do so."

"Perspective is a wonderful thing," Tigh returned, settling the chair back down onto all four legs and putting his feet on the floor.  "I hope you remember that when you're called to answer the charges.  There won't be a court-martial, but it's just possible we'll have to do a board of inquiry.  I don't expect you to be found guilty of any more than inappropriate discipline within the ranks.  You'll get a slap on the wrist, if that.  Your career would be pretty much intact, even if you father wasn't running the fleet."

"That's reassuring," Lee admitted, although if the truth were known he might prefer a couple of weeks in a quiet brig rather than a chaotic office.

Kara showed up shortly after Tigh had left, and Lee was still awake and pondering the discussion.  It was amazing what you could learn from someone when you read between the lines.  Unlike what he'd previously believed, Lee now didn't think that Tigh hated Kara; he just resented that she spoke her mind.  It was inconvenient on occasion, but rarely truly malicious.

"You are sprung!" Kara announced lightly as she rounded the hatchway to his cell.  "I've already given the paperwork to the guard."  She hadn't sounded this excited in months.

"How'd you swing that?" Lee asked as he heard the distinctive pop of the cell release.

"Well, Aames isn't pressing charges, to begin with," she said as she pulled the door open and stepped inside rather than waiting for him to walk out.  "In fact, someone has been dropping hints that you might be pressing charges against him for verbal assault as well as insubordination.  I think that's why he's still malingering in Life Station," she told him with a grin.  "He's afraid that if they put him down here you'll beat the stuffing out of him again."

Lee just shook his head, accepting the quick hug Kara offered without considering how out of character it was for her.  "So, what happens next?  Hearing?  Inquiry?"

"For now, you go back to quarters.  I am your official escort," she said with a formal bow that was almost comical.  "And as your friend I have to say that you're are frakking lucky that this went the way it did.  If it had been me, I'd be looking at a court martial."

"Yeah, well you do this on a weekly basis," he told her dryly, but still he reached for her shoulder as she preceded him from the cell.

"Not anymore," she disagreed, but the humor was still in her voice and her expression.  She was loving this, although he couldn't fathom why.  He would have thought the incarceration would have been more amusing to her than the release and dropping of charges.  "I may take a while to learn lessons, but once I do they stick like glue.  Now I don't hit anyone in the presence of witnesses," she informed him slyly.  "And I do it hard enough that they don't dare say who did it."

"You're a brat," he remarked as he gave her shoulder a squeeze before releasing it to accept the salute from the guard posted at the brig entrance.  It seemed ironic, really.  After all, he was still in some level of trouble – whatever Kara might tell him otherwise – and yet the guard was initiating the salute.  The inconsistencies of military life had never seemed so erratic to Lee as they did at that moment.

But Lee was definitely pleased to see some of the bounce back in Kara's step as she walked before him in the hallway.  He also appreciated the view he got of her flight suit as she walked up the stairs to the next level.  He shook his head to clear it.  This was _Kara_, for Lord's sake.  He needed to get his head back on straight.

"You're moving easier," he remarked as he came up to walk along side her in the corridor.  "Some of the stiffness easing up?"

She nodded.  "The more I move, the easier it is.  I thought about trying to get in a run, but I'm pretty sure that would be overdoing it."

"No doubt," he told her with a grin.  "I'd offer to walk with you though, if I wasn't stuck in quarters."

"So long as you're escorted, you're legal," she told him with a wink.  "And as the highest ranking pilot who isn't under house arrest, I can definitely say that walking is a possibility.  At least for today and tomorrow, anyway.  After that, if Salik gives the good word, I'll be back on duty."

"If you aren't on duty, why the flight suit?" he asked.

"Laundry day," she said with a shrug.  "So anyway, I should be back in the air within the week."

"Hopefully we'll have this cleared up by then," Lee muttered.

"Hopefully," she agreed.

Lee's office was on command level, just down from his father's and within screaming distance of CIC.  It had been designed that way for a reason.  If there were to be an emergency requiring his presence, the last thing he would have needed to do was run through the ship from Pilots' quarters.  When they arrived at the office, Kara punched in the code and Lee had to grin; she definitely had remembered it. 

Choosing the code had not been a whim.  It was a number that he'd been fairly sure his father remembered, and one he knew for a fact that Kara did.  Privacy was one thing, but in the event that he needed something, he wanted to be able to have someone get it without necessarily finding him to gain access.  If that ever occurred, he'd have to change it for security purposes, but so far the "lucky number" had held.

Lee had half-expected Kara to drop him at his door and take off, but instead she followed him into the office, which doubled as a sleeping quarters.  The bed was recessed, hidden so that if you weren't looking you couldn't see it, and that gave some illusion of privacy.  It was a small thing, but something Lee was grateful for.  He hadn't made his bed the morning before their mission, and he hadn't taken time when he'd come back long enough to shower.

"Home sweet home," Lee mumbled as Kara made herself at home on the corner of his desk.  He had taken to leaving that one corner free, as it seemed to be a favorite perch of hers, and he hated having his forms scattered.  He took a seat behind the desk, gave a sigh of relief, and closed his eyes to take just one moment to feel as though his world was back on its axis.  It was an illusion, of course.  He was still in trouble, his emotions were still a wreck, and there were still far too many issues unresolved to allow his mind to rest.

As if on cue, Kara began, "Lee, now that we're alone, we really need to talk."

Great, Lee thought, he four most fatal words in the history of language.  Whether delivered by his parents, his friends, his boss, or his girlfriend, "we need to talk" was never a good thing.  Usually it resulted in his embarrassment, someone in tears, and him feeling guilty as hell.

"About what," he hedged, not opening his eyes to look at Kara.

"You know better," she told him, and her voice was closer than his desk, although he hadn't heard her body shift.  In fact, her voice was coming from directly above him, so he could do no less than open his eyes to meet a searching hazel gaze.  "You know exactly what I'm talking about," she informed him.

One rule he remembered from basic law was that you never admitted to anything until you were sure what you were being accused of.  Innocence, while not likely to keep him out of this indefinitely, was his best course of action at the moment.  "No, I really don't," he denied.  "What do we need to talk about?"  There.  That sounded calm enough.

She shook her head, using one foot to reach between his legs and snag a leg of his rolling desk chair.  She shifted, moving him and the chair both to the side, and plopped her weight down on his lap.  Anyone else he would have shoved off hard and fast, but this was Kara.  She put one arm around his neck to keep herself balanced, and he felt more familiar in the position than he thought he had a right to feel.  "You can't fight my battles for me," she said softly, almost a whisper.  "And don't give me any shit about me being one of your troops and that you'd have done it for any one of us.  I know better.  You would have reprimanded, or threatened, or maybe called in the marines.  But there's no way in hell you would have beat the crap out of someone for giving a hard time unless it had been directed at me.  It has to stop."

As dressings-down got, this was a good one.  Kara wasn't normally so wordy, and it took him a moment to sort through the explanations to the order beneath.  "Yeah, it was because it was you, but not why you think."

"Enlighten me," she said simply.

"Kara…"  He hadn't a clue how to go on.

"Lee, this could have gotten you court-martialed," she reminded him.  "This isn't a game.  You're in a position of authority, and I know how seriously you take that.  Hell, you make me insane with how seriously you take it.  This wasn't you, and I need to know what the hell happened."

"I let you fight your own battles," he began.  "Usually.  But this one was below the belt.  You were tired and I'd been worried, so when he… I just wanted to shut him up.  I know that's a lousy excuse, but it's all I've got."

Kara rested a soft cheek against his forehead.  "I'm a big girl," she said, again in that soft voice which he felt more than heard.  "If you start taking on the world for me, what will happen when you're not there?  They have to know that I can hold my own with them.  I've been proving it for two and a half years, Lee, and there's no reason for them to start doubting it now.  You need to let me take care of myself."

"I do," he argued.  "Usually."

She shook her head, rubbing blond bangs up against his skin.  "In one ear and out the other," she muttered.  "Usually doesn't cut it.  Always.  Do you understand that?  I have to command these turkeys in the air, and sometimes on the ship as well.  I can't do my job if they're looking around for my big, strong defender."

"That isn't how it was," he argued, anger finally beginning to blossom.  He hadn't been undermining anything; he'd been dealing with an unacceptable situation of which Kara had been on the receiving end.

"Then how was it?" she asked, and there was anger in her voice as well.  Great.  Just what he needed; a fight with Kara would definitely earn him a court-martial.

"Kara, you looked like crap.  You'd been out for days, and there were times I…"  He took a breath before continuing.  "There were times I wasn't sure you were going to wake up.  And then as soon as you did, everyone started acting like nothing had ever happened, that you weren't even tired, and you were ready to tackle the world.  Kara, I stepped in because you were too damned tired to do it for yourself, and it had to be done."

She pulled back from him, facing him directly, eye to eye in this position with her sitting on his lap and less than two inches between their faces.  "It had to be done?" she asked.

He nodded, his throat too dry for words.  The motion almost knocked their foreheads together because they were so close.

"Why?"

One word.  Why?  Why couldn't he have left well enough alone.  Why couldn't he see her as the little sister she'd always been?  Why hadn't he just left her there in quarters to get her stuff taken care of and stayed out of the line of fire?  Why was it so damned hard to breathe?

"Because you matter," he finally said, and it was as close to the truth as he was willing to go.  He didn't have a clue what he was feeling, only that he needed to protect this one woman, come what may, and keep her safe and with him.  Friends in life were too precious and too rare, and one such as Kara didn't come along every day.  "I almost lost you," he told he gently.  "Yeah, I got a little overprotective.  Doesn't a friend have that right?"

"A friend?" she asked, her eyes seeming to change color as he watched them, brown fading from the hazel to leave a near-dazzling green.

"My best friend," he assured her.

And then Lee Adama did the unthinkable.  He leaned slightly forward, tightened his hold on Kara, and pressed his lips to hers.


	15. chapter 15

Chapter 15 

At first, Kara had no clue what to do with the situation. It wasn't that she'd never kissed Lee before. In fact, she had kissed him quite a lot – comparatively speaking – over the years. She'd given or received a peck on the cheek, a brotherly kiss on the forehead, or an excited kiss on the mouth when something had gone very, very well.

Those were kisses she was used to. This one most definitely was not. Oh, it wasn't an aggressive kiss, the way some had been when she'd had to teach the givers a lesson. Nor was it a tentative, questioning kiss, as though he was unsure of what he was doing or why. And it wasn't a kiss to prove something – that he could awe or entrance the elusive Kara Thrace. No, it wasn't a kiss like she'd felt before. Not from friends, or acquaintances, or family… not even from Zak.

This kiss was… emotion. Pure, simple, straightforward, and honest. A lot like Lee, if it came to that. His lips were firm but not rough, he was holding her without restraining, and his intent was… hell, she had no idea.

And therein lay the problem. She had no clue what to think of the kiss, and because of that she didn't know how to react. Should she kiss him back? Was that what he wanted? Should she back things up, question, and try to make sense of the matter? Hell, should she just slap the living crap out of him for pulling such a stunt?

As she thought, and wondered, and ran various scenarios through that small part of her mind that was thinking rather than feeling, she realized that the kiss hadn't really changed. It hadn't intensified, or lessened, or stopped. He had continued to kiss her with a singular emotion that she finally recognized after wracking her brain in every direction.

Relief.

Now, that brought on a whole new line of questions. What was he relieved about? That she was okay, or that she hadn't smacked the daylights out of him? That they were both alive, or that he was out of jail and she had been the bearer of good news? The questions were enough to make her mind swim with confusion, so she finally just turned off the thinking and let Lee do the rest. It was a lot easier when she did.

As though he'd sensed the change, Lee deepened the kiss slightly, although it was still gentler than most kisses she'd experienced. Not that she had a wealth of experience to draw from, but neither was she a total novice. She could recognize gentle persuasion as opposed to forced seduction.

And at the moment, as she had no clue where this was coming from or where he planned to go with it, she decided to just enjoy it. She hadn't been kissed – really kissed – in years, and even then the efforts had been more fumbling and clumsy than sensual. Lee had no such inadequacies. He knew what he was doing, and yet somehow didn't make her feel as though were clueless.

So they kissed. His hands remained at her waist, at once supporting and holding her, and she let her hands thread through his short hair and enjoy the varied textures between her fingers. He didn't seem to mind the attention, but neither did it rush him. In fact, after what seemed an eternity, she felt him begin to pull back. She didn't want to let him. She was enjoying the sensation of being… treasured, for lack of a better word. But neither did she want to pressure him. She had no clue what in hell she wanted, so she couldn't very well impress her wishes upon someone else.

With a reluctance that he seemed to echo, Kara leaned back to look at him. His blue eyes were closed to her, and he was looking more than a little dazed. She knew the feeling. She watched as he slowly ran his tongue over his lips, as though remembering – or savoring. Then his eyes opened and she saw as much confusion there as she had felt herself.

"I'm sorry," he said, and she could have sworn there was a blush on his face. "That really wasn't fair, was it?"

"Depends," she answered. "Why did you do it?"

He seemed to think about that for a moment. "Because… I wondered if there was more."

She cocked her head sideways to look at him, silently asking him to explain the cryptic comment. In the tiny part of her mind that was still functioning rationally, she noted the distinctive change in the lap she was seated on, but it didn't really register consciously. Later she would regret that she'd forced this conversation while he was so uncomfortable. At the moment, she just wanted to understand why her best friend had kissed her like a long-lost lover.

"I… don't have a clue," he admitted. "Except that I spent more hours than I can remember with you in my arms, and after a while it felt right. And when I thought you wouldn't be there any more, it scared the living shit out of me. And now… I can't put all the pieces back into the right order. I know we're friends, and Lords I hope we always are, but…"

"But?" she asked softly.

"But I don't want to screw it up," he admitted. "And I think I just did."

She shook her head emphatically, placing one hand on each of his cheeks. "You're my best friend," she told him firmly, holding his blue gaze with the power of her will alone. "I don't think there's anything you could do to change that. It doesn't mean I'll always agree with you, but hell, that's half the fun of having a real friend. I know I can be a pain in the ass, and you'll still be there when I get myself together. I hope you feel the same way."

He gave her a slight grin. "Apparently I do, because you normally are."

"Hey," she complained, popping each of those cheeks with her palms. He grinned at her then, dimples at full strength, and a piece of her melted.

And then she was the one who was scared.

Standing quickly, Kara moved a few paces away, her arms wrapping around herself protectively. "So, no risk to the friendship," she announced imperiously. "We're just right back where we started. Right?"

He stood then, looking at her with an intensity she couldn't place. She felt as though he was measuring every nuance of her features, every thought she couldn't even fully form on her own. She felt like he knew her better than she knew herself, and Lords she hoped so because she didn't know anything right now. She could barely remember her own name.

"No risk?" he asked, hands coming to her shoulders and resting there, solid and warm and strong.

Unable to speak, she shook her head. She'd essentially given him permission to do whatever the hell he wanted. She didn't know what she wanted, so it seemed sensible in a strange way to let him take the lead. Sensible, but odd – she was used to controlling her own destiny.

His hands moved up, from her shoulders to her neck, still warm and solid, and then higher to cradle her face in his hands. All she could do was stare at him and wonder what he wanted, what he was planning.

After an eternity of looking at her, he leaned forward and kissed her again. There was a little less questioning in this kiss, and a lot more confidence. Once relieved of the burden of damaging their friendship, it seemed that Lee had a lot more on his mind than just being friends.

He never got rough; Kara had to give him that. But the kiss was definitely aggressive, sucking her into a wave of sensation and uncertainty that she'd never felt before. For the moment she chose to follow, granting him entrance to her mouth when he demanded it, and giving a soft moan as he made use of her apparent invitation.

Good Lords, the man could kiss! As meticulous with her mouth as he was in a preflight check, with no area untouched and no system unchecked. For the first time in her life, Kara didn't care a damned thing about what was going on around her. She didn't worry about being in control, or protecting herself, or even what was happening in her own body. She just… felt. And what she felt was incredible.

While his hands never left her face, all sorts of places on her body were reacting to Lee's kiss. Kara could feel a flutter that started in the pit of her stomach and radiated outwards, making her fingers and toes tingle. She could feel the temperature of her body rise, and her breathing get short. She could almost feel a tangible connection between herself and Lee that went beyond where they were touching. No, she couldn't read his mind. She didn't have a clue what he was thinking. But she knew just what he was feeling.

The pressure against the back of her legs took a moment to register, and then a moment more to make sense. The desk. At some point, Lee must have turned her around and backed her towards his desk. She was now pinned there, between his body and the hard metal surface, and yet she still couldn't find it in her to care. She let go of him just long enough to reach for the desktop and boost herself up onto it so that she wouldn't get squished between the desk and Lee's legs. Then she just held on to the edge of the desk for dear life, letting Lee's mouth take her places she had never seen, and wouldn't have believed existed if she hadn't gone there herself.

Once she'd wiggled herself back onto the desk, her hands went to Lee's shoulders, more to let him know she was still with him than for any other reason. He had released her face, and she was afraid he was interpreting her backup as a lack of approval. She was relieved when those warm hands came around her back, one high and one low, and hard arms pulled her close up against his body. Her legs separated instinctively, and Lee's hand at the base of her spine pulled her tight up against his body

Reality registered in a hurry. The kiss was amazing – more than that if she was honest – but what she was pressed up against was more than a simple kiss, and if she continued with that damned honesty it was more than she was prepared to deal with at the moment. No, it wouldn't destroy their friendship – she hadn't lied to Lee about that – but there were lines that even the best of friends couldn't cross without changing things.

As though sensing her reluctance, Lee's hands moved to rest in the middle of her upper back, and gradually he eased them out of the kiss. She was grateful for both his restraint and his reluctance; she wasn't alone in how she was feeling.

And she supposed that was why she wasn't embarrassed – or at least more embarrassed – by what she had felt. Given the way she had been feeling, it was no surprise that the kiss had affected Lee the same way in which it had her. It followed that his body would be as changed as hers was. It was nothing to be shy about. Really.

After he'd ended the kiss, Lee tucked his face into the curve of her neck and gave a couple of nibbling kisses there. His breathing was finally slowing down, as was hers. She wouldn't have believed that simply connecting two mouths could wreak such havoc in two human bodies. So _that_ was what all the fuss was about.

"Friends?" he whispered, a word so soft that she barely heard the question. It made her smile.

"Always," she told him, and felt him release a breath. It irritated her that he hadn't believed it when she'd said it the first time, but she didn't comment.

With a sigh, Lee rested his head on her shoulder and pulled her body up against his, albeit not so closely as before. She liked the sheltered feeling of sitting there with his arms around her body, and she eased her own arms beneath his to hug him back, her head resting on his shoulder in the same manner. That was the nice thing about the height of his desk; it put them on exactly equal levels, aligned head to head, chest to chest, and… she wasn't going to think about what else was lined up just now. There wasn't usually a lot of difference in their height, but in this position there was none, and she couldn't complain about being eye to eye on this.

But aside from placing her in the direct line of a brilliant blue gaze, she was completely unsure of where this really put them. Kissing was nice. Their friendship was solid. But now what?

Lee had no clue what to do next. What on earth was a man supposed to do when he'd just changed every rule in his own personal universe, and that of his best friend? It wasn't that Kara seemed to mind. In fact, she was making no effort to move out of his embrace, and her arms were even holding him back which was a reassurance that he needed more desperately than he had known.

But it was a step he didn't even know if he wanted to take. It was a complication that he wasn't sure he wanted to have. And all of the hindsight was less than useless as he stood there with his arms around Kara and his mind flying off the walls.

"What now?"

He couldn't help but smile at that. It was his own thought, given voice by Kara. "No idea," he told her.

"Well, one way or another I need sleep," she said softly as she tucked her face into the curve of his neck. I've been going back and forth since I got out of Life Station. I'm about ready to drop."

"You want to stay here?" he asked.

She did pull back then, giving him a quizzical look. Only then did he realize how the invitation might come across given the last few minutes. "I wasn't necessarily inviting myself," he clarified. "But if they're going to hassle you in quarters. You might sleep better here. I can either get some work done, or take your bunk out there; it's your choice. I just didn't want a repeat of what got me stuck in the brig in the first place."

"Then keep your hands to yourself," she advised with a grin.

"Here or there?" he asked wryly.

"Your choice," she allowed. "And if you wouldn't mind… Well, it is pretty noisy in quarters."

"I wouldn't have offered if I hadn't meant it," he said pointedly, adding a small kiss to her forehead in order to reinforce his point. "Tell you what. Get some sleep, and I'll go find some food. You have to be hungry."

"Not really."

"Well, you should be," he said, releasing her with a wink. "You haven't had anything except juice and broth. I'll find you something solid."

"Thanks," she said softly. But even as he moved away from her, she didn't change position.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She took a breath, nodded, and slid down onto her own feet. It was then that he realized how deep the kiss had gone, because she was still out of breath.

"You sure?" he asked again. She didn't look okay. She looked pale and shaky, and frankly worse than she had when he'd first brought her back to quarters. He took a step closer, because he wasn't honestly sure she was going to stay on her feet.

If he'd had his way, he would have picked her up and gallantly carried her to the bed. But truthfully he didn't feel all that much better than she did, so he settled for putting an arm around her and escorting her, tugging covers back and making sure she was sitting before he backed away. "Your blood sugar's probably low," he reasoned. "If you'll be okay, I'll find something to take care of that."

Kara nodded, the dazed look fading slightly as she reached down and began to unbutton her uniform pants. It was nothing he hadn't seen a hundred times; co-ed quarters were a matter of course in the military. He knew she probably wouldn't take off more than the pants, and he'd seen her in far less in both the gym and the pool. But something about the last few minutes had changed things, and like it or not he couldn't go back. He gave her a sheepish smile, opened his door, and ducked through it with an undeniable feeling of relief. They both needed food, yes, but more than that he needed a moment to process what the hell he'd just started. He hadn't even meant to do it, which only made the situation more confusing.

Kara watched the door close with a sigh. She was in way over her head, and she knew it. What she didn't know was what to do about it. She liked Lee… had aways liked him if it came to that. He was a good friend, a good listener, and he was turning out to be a fine boss as well. Truthfully, therein laid most of the problem. One did not get involved with one's boss. Period.

The second problem, as she saw it, was that the boss in question was the commander's son. She respected William Ada,ma far too much to casually move from one of his sons to the other. She didn't think he'd see it that way, but a lot of people would and it would make things hard on him. It was the last thing she wanted to do. She would have to check with Bill to find out his feelings on the matter. That brought a smile to her face as she dropped her uniform pants and started working on her shirt. "Hey Sir, do you mind if I jump your oldest son?" No, she supposed that wasn't the best way to put it. There was enough talk flying without adding her own sarcasm to the mix.

And that was another issue. The talk. Kara had been ignoring insinuations and backward glances since long before she and Lee had been much more than recently reunited friends. Hell, she'd put up with it at the academy when he'd been across the quad and Zak had been dating her. There was something about herself and Lee that just led to speculation. Maybe it was because they thought alike, or that they were willing to back one another when life got a little questionable. More likely, it had to do with his looks and a protective nature that he'd inherited from his father, whether he'd admit it or not.

There was a lot of his father in Lee. It wasn't just the dark hair and blue eyes with a get-it-done attitude behind it, but there was something more indefinable. Yes, to be honest it drew her, even though she couldn't really place it. Zak had had part of it, but those two had it spilling over. She wished she could figure it out, because she would have loved the ability to develop some kind of defense against it. It wasn't that she minded having them around, but lately she felt almost like they were necessary and she wasn't a woman used to depending on others for anything, be it her job, her safety, or her sanity. The simple fact that she looked for either Lee or his father when she heard a deep voice or a quiet laugh… well, it told her that she was not as objective as she might want to be.

But oh, it was nice to be able to lean on someone just for a while. She would never admit it, but there had been a certain satisfaction in Lee punching out Aames. She really hadn't felt up to it, and it had been reassuring to know that someone was willing to do what she wasn't able to. She might not have liked the results – Lee in the brig – but the action itself had been priceless.

Kara settled herself beneath his covers and grabbed his pillow. She found herself surrounded with him, or at least his scent. It was pretty nice, actually. She had promised him that she'd lay down as soon as he was settled in the brig, but truthfully she hadn't felt all that comfortable coming into his room without him. She'd spent a few minutes on her own bunk, for what good it did, but very little more than that and she never had accomplished true sleep. Now, in the soft nest of blankets and sheets, she found her eyelids drooping and her body relaxing. Lords, she was tired.

Just as she was slipping into sleep, a panicked sensation woke her. It wasn't anything concrete, just… fear. It was damned annoying. She looked around the room, peeked out the door, and then went back to bed more confused than when she'd jerked fully awake. It took her longer to settle this time, the echo of that feeling still haunting her slightly, but gradually she managed to find her way back to the lazy line between waking and sleeping, and she almost thought she might fall asleep this time. Again, right on the edge of waking and sleeping, she jerked awake in a mild panic.

This time, she wasn't just irritated, but downright angered. What was wrong with her? Here she was, finally in a warm, safe place, and she couldn't fall asleep to save her life. She was exhausted, physically and mentally, and there was nothing wrong, but still she wasn't able to rest. It was going to make her nuts. Finally, she just quit trying. She stayed in the soft bed, kept her head on Lee's pillow, but she didn't even try to sleep. Instead, she let her mind run through battle scenarios, walked herself through the repair of a Viper's high gimbal, and began mentally disassembling her sidearm. This kind of mental exercise usually put her right out, but each one seemed to make matters worse, She was more alert if anything; not less.

Persistently, she tried again, this time going over the schematics of the Galactica room-by-room from the CiC to the bowels of the tylium storage space at the tail of the ship. She was only as far as the gymnasium when the door eased open. From the smell of food, and the deliberate quietness of the person carrying it, she knew it had to be Lee. Opening one eye to make sure, she got the amusing view of him trying to close the hatch with one hand and balance the food tray with the other. He finally maneuvered it into place, but it had been a fun show to watch, and far more interesting than ship schematics. She waited until he'd put the tray on his desk – there was no reason to risk her dinner – before she spoke. "What took you so long?"

As she'd expected, he jumped about two feet before turning around to give her a smile. At least he wasn't taking himself too seriously. "Food's not easy to come by," he admitted. "At least not between meals. And getting dishes out of the dining hall required two calls to my father. I hope you appreciate this!"

She couldn't help but smile, fluttering her eyebrows in mock admiration. "My hero!" she said in a singsong voice. He laughed outright at that, coming over to sit on the edge of his bed and straightening the covers which were over her. "You're supposed to be asleep," he said seriously.

She shrugged at that. "It's not lack of effort," she admitted. "I'm having a little trouble going out."

He nodded, although at what she wasn't sure. He gave her leg a gentle squeeze and went over to grab the tray he'd carried in. She soon saw what had taken him so long. This wasn't just any food, she realized. There was fresh fruit – a valuable commodity, at the least on the Galactica – and a couple of slices of bread. There was even some meat and gravy, a few slices of vegetable that looked slightly overcooked, and a glass of what she thought just might be milk. "Maybe you're just hungry," he offered. "Try eating something."

Normally, eating was a chore, but then they didn't get treats like this very often. She sat up in the bed, reaching for the slices of plump fruit first and giving a sigh when she bit into one. If there was one thing she really missed, it was having something fresh to eat. Most of what they managed was manufactured at worst, or at best preserved. "Did you eat?" she asked after swallowing a few mouthfulls.

He nodded. "Yeah. This is all yours."

She smiled up at him and took him at his word, devouring the plate with more hunger than grace. When she finally made it to the glass, she had to smile. It _was_ milk. How long had it been since she'd had that? "I don't even want to know what you did to get this," she told him with a broad smile and a last sweep of her mouth with the napkin he'd had tucked under the edge of the plate.

"Good, because some secrets I don't share," he informed her as he put the tray back on his desk. When he came back, he took his place back on the edge of the bed, down near her feet, and just watched her as she lay back against his pillow. "Think you can sleep now?" he asked gently.

She thought about it. Truthfully, she was exhausted, but every time she'd neared sleep she had awoken in a panic. She didn't like the feeling of being afraid, however stupid it might be. "It's harder to fall asleep than I'd thought it would be," she admitted, giving him the only part of the truth that she wanted to admit.

He nodded, standing up, and then walked to the head of the bed. "Scoot up," he ordered. Unsure of what he had planned, she did so. He grabbed the pillow and stuck it against the headboard, moving up to sit against it. Then he reached for her, tugging her up between his legs so that her back rested against his chest and his arms were around her, as they had sat in the ship. Finally, he grabbed the blankets and moved them into place with a flip of his wrist, pulling them closer around their bodies to make a warm nest. "Better?" he asked, when he'd finished his rearranging.

She thought about taking offense. After all, it was pretty presumptuous to just climb into bed with her after saying that he wouldn't. But it _was_ his bed, and he was warm, and felt a hell of a lot better than just a pillow and a few blankets. She'd been jerking awake rather than sleeping, and if his presence made it easier for her to get some badly needed rest, then she decided she'd just deal with the consequences later. She knew he wouldn't try anything – at lest, not anything she didn't want. And he wasn't likely to do that while she was sleeping.

In the time she'd taken to think it over, Lee had already relaxed. His arms had tightened slightly around her, keeping her close and warm, and his breathing was slow and regular. Unlike the last time she'd lain in this position, she was warm and there was no reason for her to fear sleep. There was plenty of air, Lee was wrapped around her out of friendship rather than necessity, and there was no reason for her to be afraid. At some point, her body must have figured out what her mind had known, because she slipped into a deep sleep that held dreams and images that she couldn't remember when she awoke hours later.

The first moments of waking were disorienting. She tended to sleep on her side, curled up around herself to stay warm. Waking on her back, half reclining, with Lee holding her… well, it wasn't the usual order of things. But it did feel pretty good, and it beat the hell out of waking in the life stations with tubes stuck in places they should not be. She pressed back against her living pillow, liking the way his arms tightened and his lips nuzzled against her neck where his head was resting on her shoulder.

She would have liked nothing more than to stay there, tight in his arms and feeling comfortably well cared for, but the facilities were going to be a necessity. She pulled away with a little more force, only to find him holding her more snugly. Escape wasn't going to be as easy as she had hoped. "Lee," she said quietly, not really wanting to wake him. "Lee," a little louder, "C'mon, I need up for a minute."

He gave a sleepy protest, snuggling himself more deeply into her neck and pulling her body more closely against this so that she cold feel… Lords, she really needed to get up. "Lee, I need to use the head," she said with more conviction.

Somehow, the words must have penetrated, because she was able to slip out of his arms and make a quick escape. She gratefully used his small bathroom, glad that she didn't have to leave his room half-dressed and explain why she was there in the middle of the night. Or, as she looked at the clock, early this morning. Frak, the two of them had been in here alone all night, and while all that had gone on was some reassurance and comfort, that kind of explanation wasn't going to fly in quarters. As much as she hated being the center of the gossip mill, the fact that she'd given them something concrete to use not just against her, but against Lee, was making her want to kick herself.

Kara splashed some water on her face and dried it with Lee's towel, hoping that she didn't look as bad as she felt. At the moment, her feelings were twisted into such a complicated mess that even she didn't know what to do with them. Did she love Lee? Absolutely. Was she in love with him? Who knew? Had she enjoyed spending the night with him? Lords, yes! Would she be willing to do it again? She just wasn't sure. Did she feel better about life in general after a good night's sleep? Yes. Was she ready to tackle the world? Not likely. Did she just want to go back in there and go back to sleep in Lee's arms? Oh, yes. Would she do it?

She didn't have an answer, for a couple of reasons. First of all, she didn't want Lee to take it the wrong way. When she'd left, he'd been… well, she was pretty sure he'd been uncomfortable. She didn't want to add to that. In addition, while falling asleep in his arms last night had seemed the reasonable thing to do, it had been initiated by him. It seemed presumptuous to just go in there and crawl between his legs. She didn't want to wake him if he'd managed to get back to sleep, after all.

"Kara?" The knock at the closed hatch startled her. She finished patting her face dry, annoyed with herself that she hadn't taken a look in the mirror to see what he'd be facing.

"Here," she told him.

"You okay?" he asked. "You've been in there a while."

She supposed that she had. "I'm fine. Give me a second."

"Okay."

Closing her eyes for some much needed strength, she pushed the hatch open carefully, not wanting to slam Lee with it. "Sorry for hogging it," she said with an attempt at a smile. It fell pretty flat.

"As long as you're okay, I don't mind how long you stay in there," he said with a crooked grin. Lords, she wished this situation was as casual for her as it seemed to be for him. She just wasn't used to waking up in beds that weren't her own. She wasn't sure what proper etiquette was.

Lee slipped into the tiny room behind her, and she wandered a bit around his room. Both office and bedroom, it was a cluttered space that had very little of the organization she saw in Lee's actions. Granted, he hadn't been around much lately. She hadn't thought to ask who had taken over for them when they'd been lost, or while they'd been recovering. She wondered vaguely if that was the reason for the room's disorder; it just didn't seem like Lee.

"Kara?"

She jumped at the voice behind her, turning around and facing him with an awkward smile. "You startled me," she said unnecessarily.

He looked at her a moment more, then reached out to take her hand. "Come sit down," he coaxed. "We need to talk about this."

"About what?"

He gave her a look that told her clearly that he knew she was hedging. She didn't bother arguing, but instead took a seat next to him on the bed, her hand still in his. He continued to hold it, tracing the fine veins with one finger, turning it over occasionally to run his fingers over her wrist, down her thumb, around her wrist. "I didn't plan last night," he finally said.

"I didn't think you had," she told him.

He shook his head at that. "I don't mean the sleeping," he said evasively. "I mean the kiss. You were there, and it just felt… right. It felt good, Kara."

Her throat was too tight to speak, so she just nodded. It had felt damned good.

"But if I'd known how awkward this was going to make us, I don't know if I would have done it," Lee admitted. "One thing I've always loved about being around you is that I could just be myself. I didn't have to think first, or worry about your impressions, or wonder what you were really thinking. But it feels like that kiss opened up some door that… It isn't that I want to take it back, but I want us back again. I need my best friend."

At some point during the speech, Kara's hand had flipped her hand over in his. "You have her," she said softly. "I just… I guess I'm over-thinking it too. I like being close to you, and you're about the only guy on board that I really feel comfortable with. I don't mind if that moves forward a little, but I don't want to lose ground."

He smiled at her. "We had this discussion yesterday," he reminded her. "The friendship stays, solid as titanium, whatever else we do or don't do."

"Got it," she replied.

"And Kara?" He waited until her eyes met his before he continued. "We didn't do anything wrong last night," he said gently. "Not the kiss, and not what came after. And even if we'd… done more, we don't have anything to be ashamed of."

Kara nodded, although she wasn't sure she believed it. "Lee?"

"Hmm?"

She took a deep breath, looking at the floor, then shifted her gaze to him. "Do you mind if we…" She stopped. The words sounded stupid in her own mind, and she didn't want him to think she'd turned into a typical female idiot.

"If we…" he encouraged. "What do you want?" He asked.

She closed her eyes tightly, unable to look at him to answer. "Can you hold me for a while longer," she said very quickly, hoping he could pick out the words because she didn't want to have to say it again.

When he stayed silent, she thought she had her answer, but then he reached over with his hand – the one that wasn't holding hers – and brushed a thumb over her cheek. "Anytime," he told her softly. "That's what friends are for."


	16. chapter 16

Chapter 16 

William Adama felt better than he had in ages. He knew that the majority of his good mood from was knowing that two of his favorite people were okay. While he'd been reassured when they had found the shuttle and brought Lee and Kara back from the darkness of space, and then had been more comfortable when had both been awake, it hadn't been until he had received a call from Lieutenant Kaytes – one of his many "spies" for lack of a better word – telling him that the two pilots were in Lee's quarters that he truly relaxed.

If he was honest, he did indeed feel a small stab of jealousy towards his son, despite his better judgement. Not only was his boy a fine pilot in the prime of his life, but he couldn't have found a better partner than Kara Thrace. Whether they remained only friends or the relationship progressed, Lee could have no idea how lucky he was to have a woman nearby who understood him. William had never had that – not until he'd met Kara – and by then he was far too old, and far too cynical to be in the running for her affections. Frankly, he counted himself lucky that she even cared for him as a friend, or father figure, or whatever. So yes, he did feel a bit envious of his son's luck, but he wouldn't hold it against his boy.

"That's a sour look," a feminine voice said with more than a little laughter. "Is the food really that bad? If it is, then maybe I'd better try my luck somewhere else."

William smiled up at the young woman before him. Blond hair, blue eyes, and a killer figure were almost enough to hide the quick mind and startling gentleness that lurked behind it. Almost, but not quite. He'd had more than one run-in with Cassie Baydon in the Life Station, and the woman could be as formidable as any officer he'd ever encountered. She knew her job, and she did it whether she was challenged or not. Perhaps that was one reason that Adama trusted her more than any of the other techs and even some of the physicians. "It's edible," he admitted with a gesture to his plate. "Mostly."

She laughed at that, and her smile was enough to brighten the room a bit. "Do you mind if I sit with you?" she asked. "I made the mistake of turning down one of the pilots for a date, and my name is mud at most of the tables. I'm sure you'd rather be by yourself…"

"Not a chance," he told her. "The day I prefer sitting alone to sitting with a lovely woman, you can just call the coroner."

She laughed again. "I don't think that will be necessary," she said as she took a seat across from him and laid her napkin in her lap. "Salik has given orders that no one is to die, period. I wouldn't cross him if I were you."

Adama shook his head with a smile. There were few people he didn't intimidate outright, but this woman was one of them. Perhaps it was because she'd bossed him around so much in the Life Station, or maybe it was just her personality in general, but she didn't even let her rank prevent her speaking her mind. "You're trying the chicken," he commented. "Brave woman."

She laughed. "Protein," Cassie said as she took a bite. "I'll take it any way I can get it," she said. "The drinks are disgusting, but I'll even deal with those before I make myself sick."

He looked up at her sharply as a miscellaneous number in her file seemed to register. "You're Arian," he said with more than a little wonder. "I don't know why that didn't occur to me."

She shrugged. "I'm sure you don't get a report on every person in the fleet," she told him with a grimace as she ate another bite of the dubious synthetic meat.

"Actually, I do," he admitted sheepishly. "But I won't tell you that I read them. For some reason your name and record just didn't connect."

She smiled at that. "Well, nice to know that I'm so memorable," she said with a smirk.

"There aren't many who have been with the Galactica for ten years," he reminded her. "Most people get fed up with the lack of amenities, especially in the medical field. I swear Doctor Salik has only stayed because he sees it as a personal challenge."

She shook her head at that. "Nah. He just likes to complain, and this ship has given him a viable reason."

She had said it with such a straight face that it took a moment for the words to sink in. When they did, Adama nearly choked, laughing long and hard until he noted a few more-than-curious glances around him and managed to bring himself under control. This was one of the disadvantages he'd found to eating in the dining hall; he was watched whether he liked it or not. But it had its advantages as well, to include the occasional person who was willing to join him for a meal, such as Cassie had now. "You're so right," he told her, wiping away tears from the laughter. "I think he'd be miserable if he didn't have a good reason to yell at someone."

Cassie wasn't smiling. "That's an understatement," she said with a raised eyebrow. "But I'm pretty good about keeping him in his place. Every once in a while he forgets that he's not dealing with a novice when I'm around, and I have to remind him how things should be done."

"I'll just bet you do," William agreed with a smile. "Is there anyone on this ship you wouldn't take on?"

She cocked her head sideways as she thought about it. "Maybe Starbuck," she said carefully. "She hits hard, and she's fast. I've seen the damage she can do. I don't think I'd want to go up against her."

"Me neither," he told her. "But she's a good one to have on your side, whatever the fight. In the air or on the ground, she's something else."

"You sound like your son," Cassie said carefully.

That caught his attention. "Why do you say that?"

Cassie shook her head. "I put his arm back together last night," she said. "He was… very defensive of her. He knows as well as you do that she spends as much time in the brig as out, and she can provoke a saint, but he was willing to get in a fight for her. Why do I get the feeling that you'd do the same?"

William thought about the words for a few moments as he finished his meal. To her credit, Cassie didn't rush him, but waited patiently for him to put together his reasoning. "There's not a person in this fleet who doesn't owe their life to her in one way or another," he said simply. "She's just a lieutenant, but she can take command of a squadron and convince them that they can do the impossible. She led a squadron of ancient museum relics up against the Cylons, and saved all our asses." He gave a shrug as he pushed his plate away. "I guess if you try to take that kind of spirit and confine it to a limited space – like a battlestar – you're going to see some of that… energy slipping through."

Cassie didn't argue with him. "She's better than she used to be," the tech admitted. "The running has helped her a lot, and requiring an hour a day in the gym helped more. But somehow, I think the… exercise she'll get with Captain Apollo may be what it takes to calm her down." She took another couple of bites, but didn't elaborate.

"What makes you say that?" William finally asked. He wouldn't dispute the idea – frankly, he thought it was dead-on – but he wondered how someone else could put it together.

"I have eyes," she said simply. She lifted her hand, and began ticking off fingers to keep track. "First, I saw him when he woke up and she was still out. He wouldn't leave her, not even to go to the bathroom or eat or sleep. That's more than just concern about a pilot under his command. Second, he fought for her. From what I've seen, he's not the type to beat on those around him. He took out Aames and wasn't even sorry, and the reason he gave was that the guy was hassling Starbuck. Finally, I've watched the two of them together. Something upset her while she was in Life Station – I'm not quite sure what – but she was hot. He kept her in bed, calmed her down, and even had her rational in record time. She's one of the most difficult women I've ever known, and he has her pegged. Trust me, there's something more than friendship there."

Adama smiled. "You've described Lee's interest in her," he said softly. "What makes you think it's returned?"

Cassie actually laughed at that. "Just look at him," she said simply. "He's gorgeous, he's intelligent, and he's downright sweet. And he's got those damned blue eyes," she added. "Those eyes are not fair."

"Eyes?" he asked in amusement.

"Don't give me that," she said in mock disgust. "You've got them, too. Dark hair and blue eyes will melt a heart any time, no contest."

He felt his cheeks heat at the implied compliment, and wondered if Cassie even realized that she'd given it, or intended it. She certainly hadn't elaborated on it. Besides, he was not a young man, and whatever Cassie said, she was a young woman, at least compared to him. He was old and scarred, and he came with a family history that was less than stellar. Added to this he was an officer and she was both enlisted and under his direct command. He was a long way from being a great catch, and he didn't have any illusions about it. Still, a compliment was a compliment, and from a beautiful woman it had the power to touch him. "Thank you," he said simply. He didn't know what else to say.

Her sarcastic gaze softened to a true smile. "I'm going to tell you what I've told Starbuck," she said in a gentle tone. "She's a pilot, yes, but she's a person first. Ignoring that will only get her into trouble. I can say the same thing to you. You're our commander, and damned good at running this ship, but you're a person too. If you forget, you're not doing yourself any favors and you aren't helping the fleet. We need you sane."

"Wise advice," he mused.

She shrugged one shoulder. "Hell, I'm great at giving advice," she said with an impish grin that reminded him oddly of Kara. "But don't ever ask me to take it."

The looked at one another for a moment more, and then the two of them broke into peals of laughter. Neither was aware this time of the looks they garnered, or the speculation in the eyes of the crew as another rumor was born.

Finding something to eat was simple, but Lee had decidedly more difficulty talking the galley personnel into letting him take dishes and silverware from the dining hall. It surprised him, because he'd been though this battle once, and he thought he'd proven himself by returning the dishes he'd used the evening before. He finally managed it after a lot of sweet-talking and one threat to call his father again. It wasn't what he would have done for himself, but Kara changed the rules.

After more than half an hour of the most annoying negotiations he'd ever managed, he was on his way back to his office with meat, vegetables, and even a few slices of bread. It wasn't a traditional breakfast, but it would have to do. He was careful not to spill the milk as he walked through the halls, balancing plate and glass on a small tray.

He'd left Kara sleeping soundly in his bed over an hour before. They had both dozed in and out for quite a while before she'd fallen asleep, and then it had taken him more than a few minutes to slip out from behind her without waking her. He hoped she had stayed asleep; she needed it. He didn't think he'd ever seen her so vulnerable. She was far too tempting that way. He was almost looking forward to the caustic personality that she normally used to keep herself protected from the pilots around her. Granted, he would miss the ready warmth and gentle smile, but he also wanted Kara to be… Kara.

He didn't notice the odd looks he was receiving until he made it to Pilots' quarters. Raised eyebrows and secretive smiles ate through what little composure he was alert enough to manage. Hadn't they been watching when he'd torn into Aames? Didn't they realize he'd had it with the rumors and nosiness and insinuations? He was almost to the point of putting down the tray to give them a piece of his mind when he felt a gentle touch to his elbow. He jerked around, thankfully not tumbling the glass of milk, to glare at the offensive woman who was bothering him.

"Captain Adama?"

He would have yelled, but she looked so damned uncertain. Ensign Kington was one of his newest shuttle pilots, recruited from one of the civilian ships and not quite of age. It bothered him that they were taking in children to fly their equipment, however talented they might be. If it had been anyone else, he would have gone off, but she had an earnest look that he couldn't be angry with. "Yes, Ensign?"

She cleared her throat, looking down and then back up at him. He could tell that she was shoring herself up for something. "Is… is Lieutenant Thrace staying with you?" she finally asked.

Well, that had been blunt. He'd been prepared for some sideways comment, but the frontal approach was a refreshing change. "She's in my room," he answered. "She's tired, and there's a lot of activity out here. Until she gets some food and rest, she's better off out of the crowd."

The ensign nodded her understanding. "Is she… okay? I mean, she was out-of-it for a long time. We thought she was fine when she came back, but if she's not well enough to stay in quarters…"

He wasn't sure if she was neatly fishing for information or honestly concerned, but given her age and expression he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. "She's fine," he said. "Like I said, she's tired. Being knocked out isn't like sleeping; it makes you more exhausted than rested. She just needs a chance to catch up on her sleep and eat something more than gelatin."

Then the ensign smiled, and Lee finally relaxed despite the other eyes that he knew were covertly watching the exchange. "Can you tell her we're thinking about her?" she asked. "It's not the same around her when she's gone; too quiet."

Lee smiled at that. "I'm sure she'll be back up to fighting speed within the week," he said.

"Good," the ensign said. "We've got Lieutenant Billings in the sims, and he's about to make us crazy. It'll be nice to have her back. She's tough, but at least she's fair."

"I'll let her know," he told her.

She nodded and went back down the aisle between bunks. He watched her for a moment, shaking his head in surprise. Sometimes he was more cynical than Kara was; he'd forgotten that there were people on the ship who cared about her – not as fodder for gossip or the most current curiosity, but as a person, a teacher, or even as a friend.

He balanced the tray on one arm as he opened the door with the other, stepping through the hatch and closing it behind him. Kara was there, curled up in a ball beneath the covers with a tuft of blond hair poking out of the top. If he hadn't known who she was, even he wouldn't have been able to recognize her.

But the situation put him in a dilemma. He wanted her to eat – knew she needed the strength food would give her – but she needed the sleep as well. He hated to wake her when she was so clearly out. He finally settled on the compromise of watching her sleep for a while, deciding to wake her in a couple of hours to eat. The food would be cold, but it was almost cold now so there wouldn't be that much difference.

Decision made, he put the tray on his desk and turned the chair around so that he could sit beside the bed in a similar manner to what he'd done in Life Station. After twenty minutes, it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. He'd tried reading through some reports that had been done while he'd been out of commission, but the words kept blurring. He had tried watching Kara, but a sleeping lump could only hold so much interest. Finally, he crossed his arms, laid them on the bed next to her, and leaned forward to rest his head on his arms. He would just rest a few minutes, he thought. Just a few minutes, and then he'd tackle the rest of the reports. It was his last thought before he fell asleep.

Hours later, he was pulled from sleep by the bed moving and soft whimpers from the lump he'd been watching. He was almost instantly alert, reaching for the blanket to check that Kara was okay. She'd said that the nightmares were bothering her, but this was really the first one he'd seen. He'd had a few himself, mostly involving the ship closing in around him, but given what they'd gone through it hadn't been too bad. Kara was having a little more trouble, though. He knew she'd been slightly claustrophobic before the accident had happened, so it made sense that it had affected her more emotionally.

"Kara, wake up," he said softly, one hand on her arm. She didn't, so he shook her gently. "Kara?"

She came awake with a vengeance, uncurling her body, turning, and coming at him with fists at the ready. He was startled, but she only got in one strike before he had her wrists and had pressed her back into the bed. Because she was on a soft surface, he was able to be a little rougher without worrying about hurting her – she wouldn't get a concussion from his pillow.

"Kara, it's Lee," he told her clearly. Her eyes were flashing every way except towards him, so he tried again. "Kara, come-on, wake up."

Her struggling ended just as quickly as it had begun, her eyes focusing on him and her body going limp beneath his. He'd thrown one knee over her lower body to keep her from kicking, but the other remained solidly on the floor for leverage. He had her by both wrists, but she'd had quite a bit of distance to flail her body in, so when she stopped it was very obvious. She lay there for a few seconds, sucking in air as though she'd run a marathon, her eyes still flashing around.

As her breathing slowed, he saw it. He wouldn't have if he hadn't been watching her so closely, still holding her wrists because he didn't know if she was fully awake or not and he knew she'd hurt him if she had the chance before she was awake. It wasn't so much that she was the better fighter, but he'd be trying not to hurt her. If she wasn't coherent, she wouldn't be nearly as careful.

One tear slipped from the corner of her eye, sliding down the right side of her face and dripping off just below her ear. The second tear was quick to follow, and then one from the other side. She was struggling slightly, but it wasn't the same mindless flailing it had been when she'd awoken. This was movement with a purpose; she was trying to get away from him – to get away period.

Under any other circumstances, he would have let her. She had a right to manage this any way she chose, and he really didn't have the knowledge to help her through it. But he'd been there. He'd felt the cold, fought for breath, and he'd know the fear that no one would find them. He knew it, and he had battled enough of his own nightmares to know that she had to be terrified.

It only took him a moment more to respond. Holding her had helped that morning, so it was the direction he took this time. Releasing her wrists, he scooped her upper-body close to his, one arm beneath each of hers, and pulled her close against him. He half expected her to fight him, but once more she surprised him. Her arms went around his neck tightly, her face burrowing into his chest as she held onto him and cried.

Lee held her that way until his back hurt from the awkward angle and he knew he had bruises from her hands on his neck. He had moved one hand to the back of her head, gently stroking while he murmured soft words that he hoped were comforting. She was safe now; he was here with her; she'd be okay. He wasn't sure how much was penetrating the silent sobs, but he thought that the flow of tears had lessened some.

Finally, his back couldn't take any more. He released her just long enough to shift positions, placing his back against the headrest and tugging her up on his lap. Unlike the last time he'd been in bed with her, she was holding on too tight to simply surround her. This time he had her sideways on his lap, her face buried in his neck, her body still shaking.

Even after the silent flow of tears had subsided, he continued to hold her. Quietly he stroked her back, kissed her hair, and just held her. By the time she raised her head and wiped her face, his shirt was soaked and his legs were numb. She wasn't a small woman, and she wasn't light. Lee couldn't find it in himself to mind.

Unfortunately, as soon as she pulled away, she did her best to shut him out. He hadn't expected it, because previously she'd been pretty open with him. But as she wiped her face and slid off his legs, she stood and moved away from the bed as quickly as her legs could carry her. He didn't bother to ask her if she was okay; the answer to that was obvious, and pushing her might close her off completely. She wasn't used to being out of control, of her life or her emotions, and he knew she had to be upset that he'd seen her break down.

"This has to stop," she said bitterly. "I'm bawling like a two-year-old over something that happened almost two weeks ago. It doesn't solve anything, and it doesn't fix anything." The anger in her voice was more than obvious, but whether directed at herself or at him he couldn't be sure.

"You're allowed some time to recover," he said gently. "I know what the nightmares are like. I know how hard it is to sleep, and to wake up cold and sure that there's no air."

"Yeah, right," she muttered. "I haven't seen you waking up from any nightmares."

With stinging feeling coming back to his legs, he stood up and walked across the small room to face her. "That's because I mostly don't sleep," he told her simply. "And when the nightmares come, I don't wake up. Well, not right away, in any case. When I do it's no different for me, Kara. Hell, the only times I've slept have been when you were in my arms. How's that for pathetic."

Another tear made its way down her face. "So we're dependent on each other," she said with a quiet sniffle. "That' can't be good."

He had to smile, stepping closer to her. He frowned when she backed away. "There are worse things," he reminded her. "At least we understand each other. I know what that damned shuttle felt like, and I know how hard it was to breathe before we passed out. I know how cold I was, and how badly we were shaking. I _know_, Kara. That's not a bad thing; it's something that… I don't know, let's us know we're not crazy."

"I don't like feeling this way," she argued. "I hate not being able to control how I feel, or what I do, or whether or not I can sleep."

"I know."

She shook her head. "Lee, you don't know," she corrected him. "I spent a lot of years with absolutely no control over anything. That's exactly how I feel now, and I won't live this way."

He wanted to get closer to her, but he knew she wouldn't allow it. Not yet. "Accidents happen," he said. "That doesn't make you any less responsible, or any less independent. It just makes you human."

"But the accident is over," she said loudly; she wasn't screaming, but she was close. "And I still can't sleep unless you're here. How long am I supposed to feel this way? I can't just… move in with you. Lee, I appreciate that you've been… taking care of me, protecting me. But it has to stop."

"Why?"

Kara just stared at him. "What?"

"Why does it have to stop?" he asked. "We've been looking out for one another since the day the war started. Why should that stop now? Kara, the only thing that's changed is the capacity. I backed you in a Viper before, and I'll back you in the bedroom if I have to. If you think night-demons are any easier to handle than Cylons, you've got a lot to learn. After Zak…" He took a deep breath, then continued. "After Zak died, I couldn't sleep for a month. Every time I fell asleep, my damned Viper hit the wall. Every frakking time, Kara. I finally wound up going to a doctor for medication to knock me out. That took me out of the cockpit for a month, which didn't help my confidence or my career. And you know, I have to tell you, those damned pills didn't work half as well as holding you. And maybe that's stupid, but have you ever stopped to consider that I'm not just doing it for you? Has it occurred to you that I'm getting as much as I'm giving?"

Kara crossed her arms over her chest protectively, another tear slipping down one cheek. "I don't want to be that attached to you," she said, but at least her voice sounded reasonable rather than bordering on hysteria the way it had before. "I need to be able to sleep in my own bed, and I've got to be able to get myself together on my own. You can't always be here for me, Lee. What if you'd been on patrol tonight? I'd be screaming like an idiot in quarters and the few pilots that aren't afraid of me already would be terrified."

"I think you're underestimating how many people understand," he said gently. "Everyone has nightmares."

She sucked in another breath and let it out slowly. "You've got an answer for everything," she said bitterly, but her arms were down and the tears had stopped.

"Yeah, well I learned that from you," he fired back.

She leaned her head back against the wall. "I hate this," she told him.

"I know."

She brushed her hands over her face again, scrubbing at the salty streaks on her cheeks. "You tell anyone about this and you won't wake up," she added.

He smiled at that. "I wouldn't even think about it," he told her. He took a tentative step towards her, and was pleased when at least she didn't tense up. She certainly didn't have any room to move away. Rather than putting his arms around her, he simply offered her his hand. She looked at it for a moment, and then took it, stepping into his embrace and holding tight. Lee gave a sigh of relief as he held her; it wouldn't have surprised him if she'd let her pride drive a wedge in between them. The same strength that he both admired and enjoyed could also be a royal pain in the ass when directed at him. "You need to eat," he finally said. "I brought you some dinner. Go ahead and eat, and then you can get a shower. I'll go raid your locker for a clean uniform."

"Thanks," she said softly, but her grip didn't ease. He didn't push her. After several moments more, she let go of him and gave him a tremulous smile. "Did you find real food?"

"I have connections," he told her with a wink.

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. He watched her carefully as she went to his desk, sat down, and pulled the tray to her. He knew very well that if he stayed, he would just watch her eat, make her nervous, and probably annoy her again. As it was, he knew their time was limited. Kara was coming back, and when she was strong she didn't need him anymore. As he slipped through the door to check her locker, he wondered whether she would bother to stay close to him because she wanted to when she no longer did it because she needed to.


	17. chapter 17

Chapter 17 

Kara slowed from a jog to a walk, using one arm to wipe the sweat out of her eyes. Two weeks without exercise had taken its toll on her running time, but it felt good to do something besides eat, sleep, and sit. She had another week of light duty before she could take her flight physical and get back into the cockpit, and she knew that the running would go a long ways towards improving both her mental and physical health to get her through it. She needed to be in the cockpit; it had been too long, and the simulators weren't enough to keep her sharp.

She wondered if Lee was feeling the same way. Truthfully, she wasn't sure. Since she'd moved back to her own bunk the evening after her crying jag, she hadn't run into him at all. He'd spent most of his free time scrubbing toilets and hauling trash to atone for his fight with Aames. At least, that's what Sharon had told her. Kara wasn't sure if she wished she'd seen him or not. Cold turkey seemed to be the way to go when it came to getting over her annoying dependence on him, but that didn't make it easy.

She'd only made one real concession to the last three difficult nights. After lying awake for all of the first one, she had slipped into Lee's room while he was out and traded pillows with him. She had no clue if he would notice – and she really didn't care if he did – but the now-familiar scent had helped lull her to sleep, and last night she'd only awoken twice. Both times she'd been in a cold sweat, but neither one had brought her to screaming. She considered it to be progress.

"Hey, Starbuck! What do you hear?"

Kara smiled at the commander as she slowed her pace to match his. "Nothing but the rain," she replied, awaiting his conclusion to their little by-play.

"And how do you feel?"

That caught her of guard, but she didn't let it throw her too far. "I'm okay," she told him. "Not quite back to normal, but I'm getting there." She paused a moment before she gave in and asked, "Have you heard how Lee's doing?"

He smiled at that. "He's doing well," Bill told her. "I saw him this morning, when he asked about you. I figured I'd better keep my eyes open and find out."

She blushed slightly at that, but she didn't think it was obvious with her face flushed from running. "We've missed each other the last couple of days," she hedged.

"So he told me," Bill said. "He's worried about you."

She shrugged and hoped it looked casual. "I'm fine. Maybe a little tired, still, but I'll be ready to fly by next week. I'm probably ready now if you'd consider letting me…"

"Not a chance," he told her with a raised eyebrow. "Both of you need time to recover, mentally as well as physically."

"I'm fine," she told him again.

"Who are you trying to convince?" he asked. "Me or yourself?"

Kara didn't answer that, but gave him a slight glare. He was too much like his son, as tenacious as a dog with a bone. "Why is it so hard for you two to believe that I can get over this?" she asked in annoyance. "I'm a hell of a lot stronger than I look."

William Adama smiled, reaching out to pat her on the arm. "It's a family trait," he told her gently. "We worry about the people we love."

She wasn't going to touch that one with a ten-foot pole. Yes, she loved Lee, and she was sure it was two-way, but that wasn't something she wanted to go into with his father. "I worry about him, too," she admitted, the only part of the truth she would allow herself to verbalize.

"Tell him that," Adama requested.

Something in his voice caught her attention and she looked sideways at her commander to see him looking at her intently. "Pardon?"

"Tell him," he repeated. "He has it in his head that you want him as far away as possible, and somehow I don't think that's the case. I know you want to do this on your own, but I've learned something in the last few years. Take it from an old man, life is a hell of a lot easier when you spend it with a friend."

She couldn't argue with that statement, so she chose to ignore it. "If you've got time, would you like to meet up for dinner?" she asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"Actually," he said, and she could have sworn he was blushing. "I… um… I have a date."

Her eyes widened and she looked at him pointedly. "For real?"

He laughed gently. "Relax, it's just coffee," he told her. "But who knows."

"Can I ask who?" she said with genuine curiosity. She cared a lot about this man, and she did want to make sure that whoever he was with was worthy of him.

"No," he told her simply. "At least, not yet."

Kara didn't know what to say to that. Truthfully, she was hurt. She'd thought they were closer friends than that. "I see," she said, but she really didn't.

"Maybe soon," he told her. "I guess… maybe I just want to keep this without questions for a while."

Kara gave a careless shrug. "I'm not your mother," she told him with a wink. "You don't have to answer to me. Lee may feel differently, but you don't have to answer to me."

Bill laughed and patted her on the back as he made the turn in the corridor for CIC. "Have a good day, Starbuck."

"You too, Commander," she called over her shoulder, heading down the corridor towards pilot's quarters so she could shower and dress for duty.

Unfortunately, every stall in the pilots' shower was full, with at least two people waiting in line. If she hadn't been so out of shape, she might not have been so sweaty and itchy, but as it was she felt miserable.

Almost involuntarily, her gaze slipped in the direction of Lee's quarters. The door was closed, so he likely wasn't there. If the door was locked, she knew the code. She was also fairly sure he wouldn't mind if she slipped in and got clean. The very thought made her feel guilty, because she'd been deliberately avoiding him for the last couple of days. She'd been afraid that if she ran into him, she might weaken. She was damned tired of feeling weak.

But she was also tired of sweat and grit. The line she was in hadn't moved, and a few other people had been added to the other lines. She had work to get done, and time was getting tight. If she wanted to get breakfast, she knew she'd have to speed things up.

Finally she realized that there really wasn't a decision. She tucked her clothes under one arm and walked to Lee's door. As a courtesy she knocked first, but she didn't really expect an answer. When she got what she expected, she punched in the code for his lock and eased through the door.

"Lee?" she called out. Nothing. She crossed the room to knock on the door to the head. "Lee, are you in there?" Again, no response. She pushed the hatch slowly open – just in case – and then entered so that she could get cleaned up.

Ten minutes later, Kara was warm and clean and smelling a hell of a lot better. She considered dressing in the confined space of the head, and decided that she'd have a better chance of getting dressed without hurting herself if she went out into the main room; there was barely enough room to turn around where she was. She wrapped Lee's towel around her body, grabbed her dry clothes from the tiny sink, and moved out into the room. Once she'd tossed her clothes on his bed, she dropped the towel and pulled on her underwear. Before she could find her bra in the tangle of clothes, she heard the door behind her open and she scrambled for her clothes – the towel – anything.

"Nice," Lee said simply, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"Cute," she muttered, finally getting her hands on her shirt and holding it up in front of her chest while she spun to face him.

"Hey, it's my room," he told her with a grin, closing the door behind him. "So, by default, I get to see what goes on in here. Objections?"

"Turn around, Lee," she said in a growl.

"Not if you paid me," he countered with a wink. "The view's too good."

Fine, she thought. If he was going to try to make her uncomfortable, then two of them could play at this game. "Last warning," she told him.

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the door, but he didn't turn around.

She had two options. The first – most sensible – was to grab her clothes and head for the restroom. Her second – much more fun – was to beat him at his own game. She'd never been one to play it safe. With no more thought than that, she dropped the shirt and reached for her bra. She pulled the running garment over her head, worked her arms through it, and adjusted the material beneath her breasts before looking up to see what Lee had done. She half expected him to have turned around after all; he had that damned Adama sense of decency. But this time, being male had overridden being an Adama, and he was still in the same position, eyes wide open, and smile completely gone. The look in his eyes was intent. "Like the show?" she asked. She had been going for sarcastic, but the words came out just a little forced, and her mouth was unusually dry.

Lee moved slowly, taking the few steps towards her before reaching out to run a finger from her temple to her cheek. She thought of moving back, getting out of range, but her feet seemed to be stuck in place. She didn't move a muscle as Lee's hands brushed down her arms, back up to her neck, and then his arms went around her.

She had thought she was ready for his kiss. She was wrong. When his lips touched hers, the jolt made her jump, and she didn't even have the presence of mind to put her arms around him. She just stood there, letting him kiss her, feeling his hands on her bare back, and enjoying it immensely. When he pulled away so that they could both catch a breath, she caught another look at his eyes. The deep blue was clearer than she'd ever seen it, and he looked far more serious than she'd seen in a long time. All she wanted to do was come up with a snappy comeback – a sarcastic remark – but she didn't have one. All she had was a rapidly beating heart and a fluttering sensation in her stomach.

"I'd better let you get dressed," he said in a hoarse voice. Then he was moving away.

Kara knew she should let him go, but what she should do and what she could do were a long ways from the same. As he stepped back, she moved forward, wrapping her arms around him and leaning up for another kiss. Lee wasn't complaining. In fact, the sigh he gave as she did so sounded a whole lot like relief. She knew the feeling.

Kara didn't rush the kiss. They played with one another, tongues tangling and teeth nipping, occasionally pressing closer for something more intense. His hands didn't leave her back, and hers didn't leave his, but she wanted them to on both counts. The feel of his hands on her skin was amazing. By the time Lee lifted his head from hers, they were both breathless, both shaking, and neither seemed to have a clue what to do about it.

"I'm gonna be late for work," she finally said, but her voice didn't sound like her own.

He nodded dumbly, reaching up with one hand to run a finger along her cheek, down her jaw, settling carefully around her neck. "I know," he said softly. "I make the schedules."

She smiled at that, feeling a lot more shy than she thought she should with a good friend, especially given how close they had been in the previous couple of weeks. But what they had shared this time hadn't been comfort, or desperation, or even friendship. It had been… more. "The showers were full," she told him by way of explanation.

"I figured."

"I thought I'd be out before you got here," she added.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not," she corrected. "I should have asked. I shouldn't have just come in. Or at least I should have checked the schedule to see…"

He cut her off with a kiss as deep as the last, one hand holding her head in place while the other trailed over the naked skin between bra and underwear on her right side until he was quite finished, and she was once again out of breath. "You don't need to explain," he told her simply, resting his forehead against hers.

"I just didn't want you to think I was… I don't know, leading you on or something."

Lee smiled at that. "You've done everything but jump ship to stay clear of me," he reminded her. "I didn't figure you were making an offer. I was just going to give you a hard time, but then you…"

"Yeah," she agreed, giving a slight blush as she spoke. "Guess that wasn't my brightest move today."

"I don't know," he argued. "I really didn't mind it."

"Gee thanks," she muttered, finally moving away to grab her shirts. She pulled on one, and then the other, before reaching for her pants. Lee just stood there watching with an odd look on his face. "What?" she asked.

"Just… watching."

She shook her head. "Come off it," she said in slight annoyance. "If you want a show, there's about a dozen girls out there with a lot more to look at and a much more agreeable disposition," she remarked. "Anything I've got they have more of and it's better distributed. Trust me."

Lee just grinned. "You really believe that, don't you?"

She gave a shrug as she sat on the edge of his bed and pulled on her pants. "I'm a realist," she told him.

"You're a cynic," he corrected. "But that's okay. I'll consider it a challenge."

She raised her eyebrows in a silent question. What the hell was he talking about?

"You know," he told her. "I've figured something out in the last few days. A lot of things, actually. To begin with, I miss you. It was nice having a friend around at three in the morning when the room closes in. Another thing… you're warm. I didn't know how cold that damned bed was until you weren't in it. It surprised the hell out of me."

"Lee, this isn't…" she began.

"Nope," he interrupted, placing one palm against her cheek with a thumb covering her lips. "My turn; let me finish. The days are a lot longer when I don't have someone to look forward to talking to about them. And maybe I'm out of line, but I think you care about me too, and if the world's gonna fall apart around us, we don't have the luxury of thinking that life is going to last forever. So I guess if I'm going to have you in my life, I should just come out and say it because hinting around isn't getting it done."

Kara just stood there, slowly absorbing what he'd said, but even more so the way in which he'd said it. When he still hadn't moved his hand a few moments later, she carefully bit his thumb. She didn't realize her mistake until she'd done it. Lee's eyes closed in a moment of consideration, and then his arms were around her again. While the sensations on her body were less acute through a layer of clothes, his kiss was just as potent. Her eyes closed, her mind shut down, and for just that short time she forgot that she was a pilot and he was her boss and that they were just friends.

When he pulled back that time he was clearly reluctant, ending the kiss with gentle pecks and nibbles, another light kiss, and then a moment of just looking at her. "You've got to get to work," he told her, but he didn't sound like he meant it.

Her mind went over the roster placement. She had the sims today – nine young pilots trying to learn to control a shuttle without killing anyone. It wasn't something she could ignore, or go into with her mind clouded. "I'm off at twenty-two hundred," she thought aloud.

He smiled at her. "You know where to find me," he said softly, and kissed her once more, gently, carefully.

"Mmm, hmm," she agreed, letting herself return the kiss.

Lee just shook his head. "Go," he finally said. "While I'll still let you. I don't want us both in hack because we aren't paying attention to time."

She had to smile. "Mister By-the-Book… first fighting, now making out on shift. Maybe the world _is_ ending."

"You little brat," he said, moving to smack her, but she was too quick. She grabbed her socks from the bed and headed for the door.

"Oh, and check with your dad," she called as she was opening the door. "He said he has a date tonight, and I can't get any details. Maybe you'll have better luck."

Lee looked at her dubiously. "Right."

Kara laughed all the way to her locker.

William Adama sat nervously in his room while he waited for his guests. The last month had set new records for him in the way of emotional confusion, but he was finally ready to settle down and make some kind of sense of it. Unfortunately, he didn't feel that he could do it alone. There were too many other people involved in the situation to make it his solitary choice, and that was what had him on edge.

Okay, so he had a girlfriend, for lack of a better word. It was a stupid word, really. He was well over sixty years old, and she was over fifty, so the whole "girlfriend", "boyfriend" terminology seemed grossly inadequate. It also wasn't a traditional relationship, he supposed. At least not like the ones he'd had when he was younger. He barely remembered dating before Iilya, but he was fairly sure that the physical aspect of it had been predominant. Now he found the intellectual stimulation to be far more valuable. It wasn't that she was unattractive – far from it, actually – but his priority was her mind rather than her body.

Hell, he didn't even really remember. He hadn't dated in so damned long that all of it was purely unclear. He wasn't even sure if what he was doing could rightly be called dating. He had dinner with her occasionally, they met in his room to talk several times a week, and they both enjoyed a good game of cards or watching old vids. Once or twice they'd fallen asleep side-by-side, and he did enjoy kissing her, but he wasn't entire comfortable going further. He was old fashioned that way.

She didn't seem to think of him as an old man, and his appearance hadn't stopped her from kissing him on more occasions than he could count. William remembered having a discussion with Saul months earlier about infatuation and what it felt like, and if Adama was honest, this was it. He couldn't find it in him to be sorry.

But that was the beginning – not the end – of the dilemma. First there was the age issue, which was only about ten years, but appeared to be substantially more. She was a beautiful woman, and there were days he had to remind himself that she wasn't a girl. Next, she was enlisted. Granted, he'd essentially eliminated the division between officers and enlisted where his crew was concerned – they couldn't survive if limits were placed on who they could or couldn't be attracted to – but allowing his crew to fraternize and doing so himself were different matters. The only redeeming factor in that area was that she fell under medical and he belonged to command, which were two essentially independent entities. Finally, there was his son. While he and Iilya had been divorced for two years before her death, or nearly that, he still didn't know how Lee would react to his being with another woman. Lee was fiercely loyal, and yet he'd supported his mother's engagement. William didn't know if that was because Lee liked the man, or had hated his father at the time. Either way, he couldn't predict his son's feelings about this. Last, there was the woman concerned. Cassie was… amazing. She was honest to a fault, entertaining, lovely, sexy, and she'd had more than one run-in with both Lee and Kara, whom William considered almost to be a daughter. He didn't want Cassie to alienate his family any more than he wanted them to alienate her.

A knock at his door startled him from staring at the covered dishes on his table and moved his attention to the closed hatch. "Come," he called out, and was dismayed to find that his throat was so dry that he was hoarse. Lords he hated being nervous.

"Hey," Kara called as she stepped through the hatch. Lee was close behind her. The two were rarely seen apart lately outside of duty, but as yet his spies hadn't reported anything beyond a strong friendship. There had been no PDA observed between them, no careless comments, and no inappropriate behavior. He didn't entirely believe the reports, but he didn't have anything concrete to dispute them with. Kara sure as hell wasn't talking, and his son was the original clam.

"Come in," he said, trying again. His throat didn't feel any better. He grabbed a glass of water, took a swallow, and wondered when the world had shifted on him. Ten years before, he could remember his boys bringing home their girlfriends for inspection, their nervous expressions, the humor he'd found in the situation. Now the generations appeared to be reversed, and he wasn't enjoying the turmoil.

"We're here," Lee said as he pulled out a chair for Kara. Hmmm… that was interesting. William hadn't seen that before. Then Lee took a seat and for a moment things seemed almost normal.

"Sorry we're late," Kara told him. "Ran into some fuel issues on patrol. Can't seem to teach the kids to moderate their speed. They're either jumping ahead or falling behind, and all the switching back and forth uses up more fuel than it should."

"Suggestions?" he asked, automatically moving into "commander mode" as Cassie called it. For every problem, he believed there was a solution. His job was to find a way to find it. He couldn't solve all the problems on the battlestar, but he tried to see too it that each problem was addressed by someone qualified.

"Restricters, maybe," Kara said, looking to Lee for confirmation. He nodded, and she went on. "I'll talk to Tyrol about it, if you think it's okay. It'll slow them down some, but it'll also level out their acceleration. We can always have them shut down in the event of an attack."

Lee nodded. "But only in certain Vipers," he said, moving his gaze back to his father. "I know I have some veterans who would be purely pissed off if they had to be held back that way. It's not necessary, and it's frankly insulting."

"Not to mention boring," Kara agreed with a wink. "But other than that, things are pretty level, I suppose. The new shuttle pilots are settling in nicely, and we have a few more slated to start training next month. I think we'll have quarters filled out well by then."

Willliam Adama smiled. It was good news. They had been fighting with the lack of pilots since the war began. He was just about to inquire about other areas of the flight deck when a tentative knock was heard. William took a deep breath and faced his son. "Well, I guess this is it," he muttered.

"We finally get to meet the mystery lady," Kara said with a grin. William shook his head. Kara had been the first to know he was dating, and she hadn't let him live it down for a moment. He knew it was because she worried – he was in a relatively high-profile job within the fleet, and that might be seen as attractive to some women. It was normal to suspect a woman's motives.

But Cassie was different. He hadn't hidden her because he doubted her motives, but rather because he wanted to keep something for himself. He had very little that was his own on this ship – very little that was not work or family related – and Cass was someone he could turn to when either of those two areas became too much. It was selfish, but he hadn't wanted the crossover. The only real objectivity in his life seemed to come from this one woman.

He gave Kara a mild glare, but they all knew what this dinner was about. He'd told Lee when he'd invited him, as he'd told Cassie. William was sure that Lee had passed the information onto Kara, and if he hadn't been her comment would have told him. Trying not to be nervous – Lords he hated this – he walked to the door and opened it. Cassie was there, dressed in scrubs rather than her uniform, and looking positively exhausted. Apparently, his scheduling hadn't been all that he'd hoped. "Hi," she said in a faded voice. "Did I miss it?"

"We haven't started," he assured her as he took her hand to escort her into the room. She gripped hard, and he realized that she must be almost as nervous about this as he was. When he'd asked her for this – to have dinner with him and meet his family – he had known what he was implying. She had as well, and in her typical fashion she had asked him point blank what his intentions were. That discussion had led to a kiss of surprising intensity given his age – at least surprising to him – and a joke about Cassie's ability to perform CPR. "Lee, Kara, I'm sure you know Cassiopiea, from Life Station. Cassie, my son Lee, and a dear friend of the family, Kara Thrace."

"We've met," Lee said with a smile, standing up to take her hand and shake it gently. "In fact, you've poked more than one hole in me lately."

She smiled at that. "You only hurt the ones you love," she told him with a wink, reverting to her natural joking manner despite her obvious nerves. "As long as you stay out of life-threatening situations and barroom brawls, I promise not to come after you with any more needles."

Lee laughed, but Kara gave a snort. "Yeah, right," she said. "That's why you find the biggest needle you can when I come in for my annual physicals," she accused.

"Guilty as charged," Cassie replied, taking Kara's hand as well. "Consider it my reward for sending me more business than any other single pilot on the Galactica."

Kara laughed at that. "Everyone has to have a skill."

Cassie giggled in a surprisingly girlish manner, and Kara joined in. William and Lee looked at one another, each stunned at the sound, and then turned back to watch the women.

"It's nice to see you outside of Life Station," Kara finally said. "So, you're the one who's been monopolizing Bill's time." The statement sounded accusatory, even to William, but he decided not to comment. If Cassie was going to manage, she needed to hold her own from the start.

"I guess I am," she said, glancing over at him for encouragement. He gave her a smile and continued. "He's just about the best pyramid player I've run up against. Although, I hear that you normally beat the daylights out of him."

"She beats everyone," Lee threw in. "We've stopped taking it personally."

"Yeah right," Kara argued. "You've stopped playing; that's what you've done. I can't get anyone in a game."

"Maybe after dinner we can all play," Cassie offered hopefully. Kara gave her a nearly sadistic grin, and both Lee and William moaned. "What?" she asked innocently.

"Don't let them get to you," Kara advised. "They hate to lose." Then she turned her attention to Bill. "So, what have you found to feed us?" she asked, that same strain of hope in her voice that had been there when she'd asked about playing cards.

The meal went surprisingly well, Bill thought later. Lee and Cassie had gotten along well, and even Kara had seemed surprisingly agreeable. She did weasel them into a couple of games of cards, predictably winning but remaining amicable as she did so. He and Lee had rolled their eyes, and Cassie had taken it in good humor. In all, he couldn't have hoped that it would go better. He had even left Cassie and Kara alone for a few moments while he and Lee talked about some business related to CIC, and the two women had been talking pleasantly when the men had returned. William couldn't say that he wasn't surprised, but he was very pleased. By the time Lee and Kara had gone back to quarters, Cassie had been nodding off, Lee hadn't looked much better, and even Kara had been rather subdued. For his part, William felt very good, although he thought a great deal of his energy might be coming from unabashed relief.

"They're nice," Cassie said as he handed her a cup of coffee. She was curled up on the couch with her feet beneath her, shoes on the floor and looking about sixteen years old. Okay, so sometimes she still made him feel a little old. "I like them a lot better outside of Life Station," she remarked.

William laughed at that. "Most people aren't at their best there," he reminded her. "Pain has a way of bringing out the worst in people."

"Pain and annual exams," Cassie agreed. "Still, I felt like Kara had me under a microscope. She worries more about you than Lee does."

"She has a soft heart," he said gently. "Most people don't see it, but it's there. Heaven help anyone who hurts someone who she cares about."

"Tell me about it," Cassie said with a grin and another sip of coffee. "Although she only threatened me once. I guess that's a good sign."

"Threatened you?"

Cassie shrugged. "Something along the lines of my life not being worth much if I broke your heart. Frankly, I can't blame her. Although…"

Bill wasn't sure whether to be alarmed or amused. "Although…" he prompted.

Cassie looked at him seriously. "I almost got the feeling… I mean…" She shook her head. "I though for a minute I had some serious competition. She really thinks that you walk on water, and she's awfully pretty. And the way you talk about her…"

Bill had sat down next to her, but now he put his coffee down and moved close enough to put an arm around her shoulders. "Why is it that everyone assumes there's something going on between us?" he asked in confusion. "I've never been inappropriate around her, never indicated that there's anything going on… At first it was funny, but it's getting downright annoying."

Cassie snuggled into his hug, closing her eyes. "It's just rare," she said softly. "The two of you… hell, the three of you care so much about one another that it's almost visible. It's not something we see very often, and honestly it's enough to make most of us damned jealous. It's always easier to make accusations when someone else has something so… nice."

"We have a lot of history," Bill said thoughtfully, placing a small kiss at Cassie's temple. "I've told you about Zak, and the mess with Lee afterwards. Kara was kind of the… glue that kept us together when we really didn't want to be. I just wanted to get clear of the accusations, and Lee wanted to kill me, so Kara was the peacemaker. I guess going through something like that builds a bond that's pretty strong."

"I see."

He gave her a gentle squeeze and a smile. "Cass, the generations around here have been… redefined, but there is a limit. She's half my age, she's at least half in love with my son, and I see her very much as a daughter. I think you're place is pretty safe with me."

"My place?" she asked, lifting her head and facing him.

"Well, you definitely got their seal of approval," he said with a wink. "And you already had mine. I guess you're stuck with me now."

She looked at him very seriously. "What they think means that much to you?" she asked. There was no expression on her face, no indication of the answer she wanted, so he decided to be honest.

"I suppose it does," he admitted. "If tonight hadn't gone well, I would have felt the need to… change their opinions. I like having you in my life – you're good for me – but I also value my children. I wouldn't have kicked you out, but I definitely would have started plotting a way to get you guys together. Families aren't meant to be divided."

"I'm family?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

He leaned forward and kissed her. "Damned close," he told her softly. "Does that… bother you."

"It honors me," she said simply. "But… what if I hadn't liked them?"

He watched her for a long moment, and then he smiled. "Then I guess I'd have to change your mind," he said. "I can be very convincing."

Cassie set her coffee on the table next to his, then turned to put her arms around his neck and stretch her legs out over his. "You think you are, hmmm?"

"I can hold my own," he said, accepting her kiss, then giving one back.

"I'll need proof of that," she declared. "Talk is cheap."

"So it is," he agreed, kissing her once more.

It was the beginning of a lovely night, William thought later. Perhaps he could adjust to the new world after all. It wasn't easy having children flying the Vipers and his son further along in a relationship than he was, but there were far worse things. It was a new world, and the generations had been redefined, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

And as he lay in bed with Cassie next to him, gently rubbing her back as she dozed in and out, he thought that he might perhaps be able to get used to then new way of things. At the very least, it would be fun to try. As Cass had once told him, he was a human first and a commander second… thankfully, he was beginning to think in those terms himself. At the very least, he could go into the mess hall now without garnering strange looks, and he could sit with who he wanted, talk about what he liked. It was progress, he decided. Yes, there would always be rumors flying on the Galactica, but he'd learned that they didn't need to rule him.

Now, if he could just figure out exactly what was happening between Kara and Lee, he might feel like all was right in the world. Absently he began to plot how Cassie might help him find out…

The End

(or as close as it's gonna get)


End file.
